Olivier's Story
by Twix
Summary: The moment he finds his father, his mother is ripped away from him and his father falls apart. Now that Olivier James is older can he make his life right again? With the help of Rebecca Stewart, that might just be possible. Chapter 10 Uploaded!
1. Prologue

Olivier's Story

  


Disclaimer - Nothing belongs to me. Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Lurhmann.

  


A/N - I hope you all like this story; I'm very proud of it. Please tell me what you think in a review. :)

Prologue – 

Satine looked out to the audience as she stood on the stage with the Argentinean, bowing to the thunderous applause. As she scanned the crowd she couldn't find Christian. She quickly looked again and her eyes fell upon the smirking Duke of Monroth. A gigantic bouquet of roses was in the seat next to him. She gave him a dazzling smile as she walked off the stage, clutching the Argentinean's hand.

"You were amazing!" he roared, lifting her off her feet. 

Suddenly, everyone, cast and crew, were milling around backstage congratulating one another on the excellent performance.

Satine saw Toulouse-Lautrec rushing from a backstage door and into the middle of the stage. "Chwistian's gone!" he shouted. "He's gone and took evewything with him!"

Silence.

All eyes were on little Toulouse, shaking like mad and tears streaking his painted face. And then, everyone's eyes moved as one to Satine.

The curtain suddenly opened, revealing the Duke holding the bouquet of roses in his arms. "My Sparkling Diamond!" he grinned, exposing all his rodent-like teeth. Not noticing that the backstage was completely silent, he walked over and handed Satine the flowers. "For a wonderful performance!"

Satine grinned, wanting to throw the flowers to the floor. "Thank you, my dear Duke! Why, they're wonderful!" She inhaled the sickly sweet scent of the roses.

The Duke grinned even wider.

"My dear Duke," Satine said. "I'm ever so sorry, but I must get out of this dress. Will you excuse me for a moment?" She turned around before he could answer and made her way to her dressing room, motioning for Marie to follow her. 

Satine silently closed the door behind them when they reached the dressing room. 

"He's gone!" Satine breathed, still clutching the doorknob.

Marie shook her head. "But where? Where could he have gone?"

Satine sat down on the couch, her head throbbing. "I don't know, Marie... I just don't know."

Marie sat down next to Satine. "Why? Why would he just up and leave?"

"Because of me," she said quietly. "I told him I chose the maharajah."

Marie bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Satine."

"Marie," Satine said slowly. "I have something to tell you..."

"What?" she asked.

"I found out right before the show," she said. "That I'm pregnant..."

Marie gasped. "Pregnant?" A grin formed on her face. "Satine, that's wonderful!"

Satine smiled to herself, looking at her hands in her lap.

"Do you know who the father is?" Marie asked, her smile disappearing.

"Christian," Satine said immediately.

"You're sure?"

Satine nodded. "Yes, positive." She took a deep breath. "And I've decided that I'm going to start over and move to London."

"What?" Marie shrieked, her hands over her mouth. "But – But the Duke!"

"That damn Duke, I don't care about him!" Satine cried. "I'm doing this for the sake of Olivier!"

"Olivier?" Marie asked.

"My son," Satine said simply.

"But you don't know if it's a boy!" cried Marie.

"It is," Satine said stubbornly. "It's a boy."

Marie sighed, shaking her head. "But what about your career? Don't you want to be an actress?"

"That's not important right now!" Satine said impatiently. "What's important is that Olivier has the most normal childhood I can provide for him and, to me, a normal childhood does not consist of having your mother as a Duchess!"

Marie looked at her, dumbfounded. 

"How are you going to explain all this to the Duke?" she asked. 

"I'll just tell him that I'm pregnant and I'm going to start over in a small French village south of here." 

"But you're not," said Marie. "You're going to London."

"Do you think I want the Duke to follow me there?" Satine snapped. "I dare not think what he would do to me."

"And what about your illness?" Marie cried. 

"I'll find a doctor there," Satine said impatiently.

Marie looked at Satine with sad eyes. "Are you sure this is best..."

Satine nodded. "Yes."

Marie ran over and flung her arms around Satine, tears flowing freely. "Oh, I wish you the best of luck, Satine," she sobbed into her shoulder. 

Satine smiled, hugging Marie back. "Marie, you've been my best friend over all these years. Do keep in touch, won't you?"

Marie started to sob even harder. A moment later she pulled away, wiping the tears off her face. "Just one question, Satine. Why Olivier?"

Satine laughed. "That's the name Christian and I thought was best for our child," she said quietly.

Marie beamed. "I think it's beautiful!"

~*~

"You're what?" 

Satine stood her ground as the Duke was looking down his nose at her. He was positively livid and did not, as Satine had expected, take her news well.

"I'm going to move and start over in a small village south from here," Satine repeated. She had made sure that Harold, Marie and a few burly, muscular crew members where there in Harold's office as she told the Duke her news.

"And why would that be?" The Duke snarled. 

"Because I'm pregnant and I want my child away from the city," Satine said. 

"I could have a mansion built in the country –"

"No," Satine interrupted him, shaking her head. "I will not have it, dear Duke."

"Don't you want to become an star?" the Duke asked. 

Satine shook her head again. "I don't want to become an actress," she lied. 

The Duke's eyes flashed as he breathed heavily down his nose. "You know that this isn't the best decision –" 

"Yes, it is the best decision," Satine said coldly. "It is the best decision for my child and myself." She turned on her heel and walked out of the room.


	2. Introducing Olivier

**Chapter 1 - Introducing Olivier**

  


Disclaimer - I own nothing. Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Lurhmann and the song _Ordinary Day_ belongs to Vanessa Carlton.

  


A/N - I hope you like this chapter, it was so much fun to write. Please tell me what you think of Olivier's character. :) He was also fun to write. Please read and review when you're finished. Thank you very much!

  
  


"Mummy! Mummy!"

Satine walked into the main room of her small house. Yes, her house was small but it was perfect for Satine and her five-year-old son (Five years and three quarters, according to him), Olivier. There was a kitchen connected to an area with a small fireplace and a table for two. That led to the second room that was their bedroom. 

"Yes, Olivier?" Satine sat down at the table next to Olivier. 

"Look at what I drew, Mummy!" He proudly held up a piece of paper. 

"Let's see what we have here," she said with a smile. "There's you and that must be me..."

Olivier danced in his seat with excitement.

"Who's that next to me, Olivier?" Satine asked. 

"That's daddy!" Olivier squealed. "I kinda had to guess on what he looked like..."

Satine smiled to herself. He had drawn Christian perfectly. After all, Olivier was basically a smaller version of him. It makes sense his depiction of him was like that. "You drew him perfectly!"

Olivier's green eyes sparkled, just like Christian's would. "Why isn't daddy here?"

Satine sighed. "Olivier, I've told you before. Mummy made a mistake and daddy decided it... was best to leave." 

Olivier sighed too. "Oookay," he said, sounding unconvinced. 

Satine chuckled as she stood up to go into the kitchen. 

"Mummy, can you tell me about daddy?" 

"What would you like to hear?" Satine asked softly, turning to face him.

"Hmm..." Olivier thought hard, cocking his head. "When you first met him!"

Satine thought for a moment, sitting back on her chair. "It was just a day, just an ordinary day. Just trying to get by..."

"And daddy?" Olivier cried excitedly.

"Just a boy, just an ordinary boy," she started to sing softly. "But he was looking to the sky. And as he asked if I would come along I started to realize that everyday he finds just what he's looking for." She tapped Olivier's nose, causing him to go into a fit of giggles. "Like a shooting star he shines!"

"He said, take my hand, live while you can," Satine sang as she picked Olivier up and started to dance around the small room. "Don't you see your dreams are right in the palm of your hand?"

"Mummy! Mummy!" Olivier shrieked. "You're embarrassing me!"

Laughing, she set him down on the table. "And as he spoke, he spoke ordinary words although they did not feel! For I felt what I had not felt before."

Olivier gasped. "What was that, Mummy?"

She leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Love!"

"Ewwww!" he shrieked, jumping off the table and running to the other room. 

"You'd swear those words could heal!" she sang, following him into the room. "And as I looked up into those eyes, his vision borrows mine." She sat down and peeked under the blanket where Olivier was hiding. "And to know he's no stranger..."

"Daddy's not a stranger, you silly!" Olivier squealed. 

"Of course not!" Satine said. "For I feel I've held him for all of time!"

"And he said, take my hand, live while you can!" She leaned in and kissed Olivier on the cheek. 

"Yuckie!" He started to scrub his cheek furiously with the blanket. 

Satine picked Olivier up and set him in her lap. "Don't you see your dreams are right in the palm of your hand?" She put her hand against his, letting him count her fingers. "Right in the palm of your hand..."

"Just a dream, just an ordinary dream," Satine sang while playing with Olivier's dark brown hair. "As I wake in bed..."

"It was just a dream?" Olivier shrieked. 

"And that boy, that ordinary boy," Satine smiled widely. "Or was it all in my head? Did he ask if I would come along? It all seemed so real!"

Olivier climbed onto the bed and started to play with Satine's red curls. 

"But as I looked to the door, I saw that boy standing there with a deal –"

"See, I _told _you it wasn't a dream!" Olivier said triumphantly. 

"And he said, take my hand, live while you can," Satine continued. "Don't you see your dreams are right in the palm of your hand?"

"It was just a day, just an ordinary day. Just trying to get by," Satine sang, memories of that magical night beginning to flow through her mind. "And he was just a boy, just an ordinary boy. But he was looking to the sky..."

Olivier stood up on the bed and wrapped his small arms around his mother's neck. "You really love daddy, don't you?"

Satine sighed. "Yes, Olivier, I do love your daddy, very much."

"Daddy isn't dead, is he?" he asked. 

Satine gasped. "Of course not!" she said, hoping with all her heart that it was true. She stood up and walked towards the kitchen. 

"Mummy?"

"Yes, Olivier?" she asked. 

"Did Daddy –"

"Olivier, I think that's enough questions about daddy."

~*~

Satine held onto Olivier's small hand as they walked through the park that they secretly had called their own. Olivier kicked his ball along the path with them. Satine loved the outfit Olivier was wearing today, pale blue sweater with navy blue pants. It matched so well with his dark brown hair and reminded her of Christian. 

Satine looked down at her dress and realized it was what she had been wearing when she last saw Christian. Amazed that it still fit her, she had slipped it on at last minute this morning. 

"Uh-oh," Olivier said quietly. Satine looked up to see his ball rolling down the hill towards a man that was sitting under a willow tree. 

"Oh dear," Satine said. She patted Olivier's back. "Well, go get your ball! Don't forget to apologize!" she called as Olivier ran off down the hill. The man gave a shout as the ball hit him on the legs. 

Satine sat down on a nearby bench and watched Olivier talk to the man underneath the tree. They stood there for a moment, not moving at all but then Olivier spoke and the man handed him his ball. Once again, they stood there, not moving at all before Olivier turned around and ran up the hill towards Satine. 

"Mummy, you won't believe it!" Olivier exclaimed.

Satine chuckled. "What is it?"

"That was daddy!" 

Satine's jaw dropped. "What are you talking about, Olivier? That's ridiculous!" _Christian couldn't be in London, could he? _She thought to herself. 

"But it was! It was daddy!" Olivier started to skip down the sidewalk. "He had green eyes like me and said my name!"

Satine took hold of his arm and turned him around. "Can you tell me exactly what he said to you, Olivier?" She knew it was ridiculous to ask a five-year-old this, but she thought she might as well try.

"I said I was sorry and he said it was alright. Then he just started staring at me. It was really weird," Olivier made a face. "Then I asked for my ball and he said 'Here you are, Olivier.'"

Surprised that she got a straight answer out of him, she kneeled down and picked his ball off the ground. "Hmm, it doesn't have your name on it." 

"Hey, he's gone!" Olivier pointed to the willow tree. Satine turned around and saw the man had left. "Come on, Olivier," she said quietly, taking his hand. "Let's go home now."

~*~

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!" Satine sang as Olivier, who had his eyes closed, squirmed in his seat at the kitchen table. "Happy birthday, dear Olivier! Happy birthday to you!"

"Oh!" Olivier exclaimed, opening his eyes looking at the small cake that was in front of him. "It looks yummy!" He smacked his lips and rubbed his hands together. 

Satine laughed. "Go on, blow out your candles!"

"You got six candles, right?" he asked, studying the cake. 

"Well, you can count them!" Satine said with a smile on her face.

"One...two..." Olivier started counting. "Three…four...five... Hey!" He pointed to the window on the other wall. "It's daddy!"

Satine turned around in her seat and screamed. 

There indeed was a man standing in the window, looking in on them.


	3. Daddy

Chapter 2 - Daddy 

**A/N - ** I am so glad you all liked the prolouge and first chapter; I'm just overwhelmed about the response. I really didn't think it would get this far and now here I am, planning out chapters and I'm up to 6 or 7 chapter! *dances around* I hope you like this chapter, I had SO MUCH FUN writing it! I don't own anything and you who are reading it, should know that. *hehe* This chapter is a bit short, but the next chapter is a bit longer so I guess it'll make up for it! Please read and review when you're finished. Thank you thank you thank you!

Olivier walked up to the door and opened it. "Come on, Daddy," he said, bravely taking the man's hand and pulling him inside the house. Satine tried to say something, but no sound emitted from her mouth. 

The man walked into the room with his head down. Satine just saw the top of his dark brown hair. And slowly, he lifted his head and Satine gasped. There was no doubt it was Christian, with his green eyes and brown hair, but there were many differences. He had a beard to match his hair and his eyes didn't have their regular sparkle, they were dark and sullen.

The three of them stood there in the small room, Christian and Satine looking at each other and Olivier looking at feet. "Are ya guys going to talk?" he asked. 

"Olivier," Satine said warningly. "Christian…How long have you, um, been in London?" She mentally kicked herself for not thinking of a better question. 

"I left the night of the show," he said, his voice gruff and hoarse. 

Satine nodded. "So, we've been in the same city together for five years…"

"Six!" Olivier exclaimed. He turned to Christian. "I'm six," he said proudly. 

"He is…your son, by the way," Satine said, holding onto Olivier's shoulder. 

"Of course he's my daddy!" Olivier said. "Why wouldn't he be?"

Satine just shook her head, not wanting to explain. 

Christian nodded, smiling slightly at Olivier. "Yes, he is. He's a very smart boy."

Olivier beamed and squirmed under the grasp of his mother. 

"He realized who I was at the park," Christian said softly. 

Satine's eyes widened. "That was - that _was _you!"

Christian smiled, nodding. 

"I _told _you, Mummy!" Olivier said proudly. 

"Yes, Olivier," Satine whispered.

"Satine," Christian said, stepping forward. "What I really came here for was to ask you…" He struggled to find the words. "Did you ever… actually love me?" The look on his face showed that he had practiced this speech for the longest time, but it still didn't come out right. "Was it all just an act? And I was just one of your… your clients?"

"What are you talking about, Daddy?" Olivier cried. 

"Olivier," Satine said. "Hush, this between me and your daddy."

Satine looked back up to Christian. "Christian…"

"It's just a yes or no answer, Satine," he said shortly. "And if you decide not to answer, I can leave right here, right now. That works for me." By the look on his face, it obviously wouldn't.

"Christian…" Satine said after a moment. "Yes, I still loved you."

"Then why did you stay with the Duke? Why did you put me through all that pain?" Christian cried. 

"Mummy, what is Daddy talking about?" Olivier asked quietly.

"Hush, Olivier," she said. She looked back up at Christian. "Christian, they were going to kill you! I had no choice! If you came back to the Moulin Rouge, the Duke was going to have you killed." 

Christian turned his head, still looking hurt. 

"I'm so sorry, Christian," Satine whispered. 

Christian turned back around and looked at Olivier. "Come here, Olivier," he whispered hoarsely, kneeling down to his eye level.

Olivier slowly walked over to Christian, his head down, looking at his feet. Christian reached out, and with a trembling hand stroked Olivier's cheek. 

"How did you know my name at the park?" Olivier asked in a small voice.

"That was the name your mother and I picked out a long time ago," he said softly. 

"But how did you know it was me?"

Christian smiled. "Because…because you look just like me."

Tears began to flow down Satine's face as Christian pulled Olivier closer and wrapped his arms around his small body. 

"Satine…" Christian began to walk towards her.

"No!" Olivier screamed, rushing over and wrapping his arms around his mother's waist. "You're making her cry!"

"Oh, Olivier," Satine laughed through her tears. She looked up to Christian standing across the room and ran into his arms.

"Christian, I've missed you so much," she cried into his shoulder. 

Christian wrapped his arms around her, stroking her beautiful curls that were cascading down her back. He felt a little tug on his coat. Looking down, he saw Olivier trying to squeeze in between him and Satine. "Mummy told me that she loves you very much," he said to Christian. 

Christian smiled, tears forming in his eyes and he ruffled his hair. "Well, can you tell your Mummy that I love her very much too?"

Olivier made a face. "Okay." He turned an inch to his right and faced his mother. "Daddy says he loves you very much."

Satine looked up at Christian and raised her eyebrow. "Oh, does he!" 

Christian grinned. "Yes, very much so. I told you I'd love you until my dying day," he said before leaning in and kissing Satine. 

All their worries disappeared as they kissed, their tears mingling together. It was just like the first night they met, magical, breathtaking… simply amazing.

"Mummy? Daddy?"

Christian and Satine looked down to see Olivier covering his face with his small hands. "Are you two gonna kiss s'more? 'Cause it's really icky."


	4. Aunt Victoria

Chapter 3 –

Disclaimer – I don't own Satine, Christian, Olivier... everything Moulin Rouge-ish belongs to O Great Baz. I made up the names of Christian's family, his mother, sisters and brother. I don't own his father as well.

A/N – Wow! Thanks for all of the reviews. Sorry it took awhile to post. I hope you like this chapter and will appreciate it if you tell me whatcha think afterwards! :D Thank you mucho!

Christian woke up the next morning to Satine singing in the kitchen. He smiled into the pillow he had shared with Satine the night before. Christian's head was swimming with the recent events. He had Satine back! Christian's chest swelled with the thought of that. And he had a child... the most amazing child ever. Olivier was bright, smart. Christian was surprised at how much Olivier looked like him. He had his mother's personality and sense of humor. 

Christian looked up and saw Olivier fast asleep on his bed, his small arms clutching on to his stuffed elephant. He chuckled as he stood up and walked to the door. And elephant; how appropriate, he thought. 

"Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide," Satine sang as she washed a bowl in the sink. 

"But I love you..." Christian wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

Satine turned around and faced Christian, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. "Until the end of time..."

"Why are you crying?" he whispered, wiping away the tears that were falling down Satine's cheek. 

"It's just... now that you're back," she said quietly. "It's amazing how I've lived without you."

"You've had Olivier," Christian pointed out. 

Satine grinned. "He's amazing, isn't he?"

Christian nodded. "Yes, he is." He turned around, feeling someone poke his back. 

"Good morning," Olivier said sleepily.

Christian reached down and picked Olivier up. "Good morning. How did you sleep, Olivier?"

He shrugged, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, I guess. You and Mummy sure stayed up late."

"Well, Daddy and I had lots to talk about," Satine said.

"Mummy, I'm hungry," Olivier said. 

"Alright, just a moment then," Satine turned around to the counter and got a bowl out of the cabinet. 

Christian set Olivier down and he rushed over and sat down at the table. "I didn't know you could cook," Christian said, sounding amused as he sat across from Olivier and the table.

"Neither did I," Satine laughed. "Marie insisted that she come up with us and help us get settled. My, she taught me all there was to know about cooking." She smiled to herself as she set a bowl of oatmeal in front of Olivier. 

"That reminds me..." Christian said slowly. "Satine, you heard that Toulouse has died, didn't you?"

Satine bowed her head. "Yes, I did hear. It was in the paper."

"Yes, it was," Christian nodded. 

"I kept the article," Satine said, walking over to a dresser in the corner of the room. She opened up a drawer and pulled out an old, yellowed piece of paper. She handed it to Christian. The article had a picture of Toulouse on it, next to a print of the poster Toulouse had painted for Spectacular Spectacular. 

"Mummy! That's you!" Olivier cried, pointing at the newspaper. 

"No, it's not," Satine laughed nervously. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it looks like you!" 

Satine put the article back in the drawer and walked over to the window. Christian stood up and walked slowly over to Satine.

"What's wrong?" he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Nothing," she whispered, shaking her head. 

"Yes, there is," Christian said. "What is it."

Satine sighed. "It's just that… I'm afraid that Olivier is going to find out who I was," she said under her breath.

"Well, he is going to find out sooner or later," he said.

"Yes, but he's six! Just think, having to grow up, knowing his mother was a…" She turned her head away from Christian.

Christian kissed her forehead, not sure what to say. "Don't worry."

"You know, Mummy never told me you had a beard, Daddy," Olivier said, eating his oatmeal. 

Satine turned around, and raised her eyebrow at Christian. "I didn't know Daddy had a beard."

"Well, I have been a mess these last five years," Christian muttered.

"Six!" Olivier said impatiently. "I'm six!"

He chuckled. "Yes, you are."

"Christian!" Satine suddenly cried, covering her mouth with hand. "Where's your typewriter!"

"You have a _typewriter!_" Olivier squealed. "Wow!"

"Where is it?" Satine asked, looking worried. "What did you do with it?"

"It's at my father's house," Christian said. "That's where all my things are and where I've been staying."

"Oh, I forgot your family lived here," Satine said. 

Christian nodded. 

"Daddy, do _you_ have a daddy?" Olivier asked. 

He nodded. "Unfortunately," he muttered under his breath. 

"Then I have a grandpa!" Olivier shrieked. He turned to his mother. "You told me that I didn't have a grandpa!"

"Well, that was before Daddy got here. Because I don't have a father," Satine explained. 

"Oh..." Olivier said, plainly not understanding.

"You know," Christian said, a smile forming on his face. "Victoria would just love you, Olivier."

"Who's that?" Olivier asked. 

"She's my sister," Christian said. "Your aunt." He laughed. "She will be thrilled, Aunt Victoria."

"Can we go visit her?" Olivier asked excitedly, his half-finished oatmeal forgotten.

"If your mother doesn't mind."

"Mummy, mummy, mummy!" In a flash, Olivier ran over to Satine and started jumping up and down. "Please can we go? Please?"

"Father's not here," he mouthed to Satine behind Olivier's back. 

Satine sighed. "It's fine with me." 

"Yay!" Olivier squealed. "When are we going to go?"

Christian shrugged. "When do you want to go?" he asked Satine.

She smiled. "We can leave right now, if it's alright with you."

"But is it too early?" Christian checked his watch. "Oh, wow, it's 11:30. Yes, it would be fine to go now."

"Let's go! Let's go!" Olivier shrieked. 

"Wait!" Satine laughed. "We're all in our pajamas! Shoo, go get dressed!"

~*~

"Is that your house, Daddy?"

"No."

"Daddy, is _that _one your house?"

"No, Olivier."

"What about that one?"

Christian looked up at Olivier, who was sitting on his shoulders, his eyes wide with excitement. "Olivier, I'll tell you when we reach the house."

"Okay," he said. 

"Olivier," Satine said. "I think you better get down. I don't want you to hurt Daddy!"

"Awww, Daddy!" Olivier whined. "Do I have to?"

Christian smiled. "No, you're fine."

"Are you sure, Christian?" Satine said worriedly. "He isn't hurting you?"

"No, he's just popping a few bones out of place," Christian said with a wink. 

Satine laughed as she patted Olivier's leg. 

Christian looked at Satine out of the corner of his eye. She left her beautiful hair flowing down her back and she was wearing the silk kimono she wore so many times at Christian's garret. Satine was extremely nervous to be meeting Christian's family, but he thought it helped that his father wasn't going to be there. She knew that he had been strongly against the idea of Christian going to Montmartre and mostly wouldn't like it at all that he had fallen in love with one of the courtesans there. Christian reached over and squeezed Satine's hand. "You are so beautiful."

Satine looked up and smiled at him. "Do you think you're family will like me?"

"Like you?" Christian exclaimed. "They'll love you!"

Satine blushed. "You think so?"

Christian nodded. "Yes, of course! Are you up to staying overnight? You know, Mother is going to offer."

She giggled. "Oh, that would be fine."

"Daddy!" Olivier burst out. "Is that your house?"

Christian laughed. "Yes, Olivier, that's it!"

Olivier's eyes widened as he saw the huge white house up on the hill. Behind it, there were many acres of rolling, green hills. "It's so big!"

Christian reached up and took Olivier off his shoulders to let him run to the white picket fence surrounding the house.

"Can we go in?" Olivier asked. 

Christian and Satine laughed. "Well, of course!" Satine said. "But stay with me, Olivier." She held out her hand and Olivier ran over and let her lead him to the house. 

"Hello?" Christian called once they got into the house. The room they had entered immediately opened up to a flight of stairs and there was a small sitting area to their left. A closet was to their left.

"Christian's back!" A voice called from up the stairs.

"That's Victoria," Christian said with a grin. 

"Christian!" A girl began to run down the stairs. Satine couldn't quite see her face yet. "You didn't come home last night! You had us all worried -" She stopped in her tracks as she reached the bottom of the stairs and noticed Satine and Olivier. "Oh my!"

"Victoria," Christian said, unable to contain the grin that was forming on his face. "This is Satine and…" He took Olivier by the hand and brought him out from behind Satine. "This is Olivier, my son." 

Victoria had brown hair, braided loosely at the nape of her neck. Her brown eyes were wide, as she looked Olivier and Satine over. "Your - Your _son_!" 

Christian nodded, his green eyes sparkling.

"I'm an _aunt_!" She shrieked. "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!" She ran over and wrapped her arms around Christian's neck. "I can't believe this!" Victoria turned around to Satine. "And you're Satine! Oh, my! You won't believe how much Christian has talked about you!" She started to laugh. 

Satine smiled "I've heard good things about you, as well."

Victoria began to blush. "You know, you're even more beautiful than I imagined!" 

Satine grinned. "Thank you."

"And look! It's my nephew!" Victoria squealed. 

"I told you!" Christian mouthed to Satine as Victoria leaned down to look at Olivier.

"What's your name?" Victoria asked Olivier.

"Olivier," he said quietly. 

"Olivier!" she shrieked. "It's beautiful!" She turned to Christian. "Christian, he looks just like you! Isn't that amazing?" She started to laugh. "Oh, Olivier, I'm probably starting to scare you, aren't I? Come on!" She took Olivier's hand and began to lead him upstairs. "You have to meet the rest of the family!" 

Christian squeezed Satine's hand as they walked up the stairs behind Victoria and Olivier and gave her a reassuring smile. "Now, Father and Frederick aren't here, but my mother, Elizabeth and Samantha are upstairs," he whispered. 

"Mother! Sam! Look who's here!" Victoria exclaimed as they walked into the first room on their right in the hallway. 

"My, who's this?" said a woman sitting in a chair next to a large window. Her gray hair was pulled up away from her face, making it looked pinched, but her blue eyes were soft and welcoming. Satine realized this must be Elizabeth and the girl standing in front of her who was about the age of ten must be Samantha. She had brilliant blonde hair that was falling out of the ribbon that was holding it up. Her stockings were incredibly muddy and from the way it looked, she was most likely getting a scolding because of it. 

"Christian! You're back!" She exclaimed, running to Christian and wrapping her arms around his waist. 

"Hello, Samantha," he said. "Goodness, what have you gotten in to?" 

Elizabeth sighed. "Once again, Samantha has gotten into the mud by the creek."

"That's my girl," Christian said with a smile, ruffling Samantha's blonde hair. 

"Now, who is this you have brought over?" The woman asked again. 

Christian grinned. "Mother, Samantha, this is Satine and my son, Olivier."

"Ah, so this is Satine," Christian's mother said with a smile that matched her warm eyes, adjusting her glasses onto her nose as she looked at Satine. "Are you two married?"

"Not yet," Christian said, putting his hand on Satine's waist and pulling her closer. Satine blushed furiously. 

"Now, you never told me about Olivier!" His mother said. 

Olivier escaped from Victoria's tight grasp and ran to his mother. Victoria began to giggle madly. "We're aunts!" she exclaimed, running over to Samantha. 

Samantha's jaw dropped. "An aunt? But I'm only ten!"

"So!" Victoria cried. "You're brother has a son, doesn't he?"

"You girls need to remember," Elizabeth said with a smile. "_I'm _a grandmother!" 

Samantha began to giggle along with Victoria. "He's so cute!"

Olivier buried his face in Satine's dress. 

"Girls," Elizabeth threw them a stern look. "You're scaring the poor boy." She smiled at Olivier who had looked up from his mother's dress. "Now, Olivier, can you let your grandmother get a better look at you?"

Olivier looked down at his feet. "Come on, Olivier," Satine said gently, taking his shoulder and walking towards Elizabeth. 

"My, what a handsome young man you are!" Elizabeth said with a grin.

Olivier blushed. "Thank you, Ma'am," he muttered. 

"How old are you?" she asked. 

"Six, Ma'am," he said, holding up six little fingers.

Elizabeth looked up at Satine and smiled. "Satine! I've heard so much about you! Christian said you were beautiful, but my!" 

"Thank you, Mrs. James," Satine said politely. 

Elizabeth stood up from her seat. "Are you three planning on spending the night? You know you all are welcome!"

~*~

Two hours later, as Satine looked around the room, she couldn't help but smile. She had never met a family like the James'. They were so close and alive with excitement, every one of them. But from what she had heard about Christian's father and older brother, they most likely weren't like that. Olivier was on the floor putting together a puzzle with Samantha while she had tea with Elizabeth, Victoria and Christian. 

"Victoria, Christian told me that you're training to be a nurse," Satine said. "Are you enjoying that?"

"Oh, yes, very much," Victoria nodded. "I've learned so much these last few years. It's been so much fun!"

"Mummy!" Olivier jumped up from the floor and ran over to Satine, clutching the finished puzzle in his hand. "Look at the puzzle, it's done!"

"My, that looks nice, Olivier," Satine commented.

"Daddy," he whispered somewhat loudly in his ear. "You told me you would show me your typewriter!"

"Ah, that's right," Christian said, standing up from his seat. He took Olivier's hand. "Then let's go! We'll be down in my room," he said as he walked out of the room with Olivier.

"I like Samantha," Olivier said excitedly as they walked down the hall. "She's very nice and has pretty hair. Victoria is kind of weird, though."

Christian laughed. "She means well, Olivier. She means well. What do you think about your grandmother?"

Olivier thought for a moment. "She's nice. And she thinks I'm handsome!" He said proudly. 

"Well, you are!" Christian said. "When you're older, the girls will be falling all over you, Olivier."

"Ewww..." he cried. "That's so gross, Daddy!"

Christian laughed. "Okay, here's my room." He opened a door at the end of the hall. 

"There's your typewriter!" Olivier exclaimed. "Can we type something?" 

"Sure," Christian said. He sat down at his desk and let Olivier crawl into his lap. "What do you want to type?"

"Hmm," Oliver thought hard. "Let's make something for Mummy!" 

"Okay, what do you want to say?" Christian asked. 

"Mummy is...nice," he said after a moment.

Christian chuckled. "Alright, that sounds great. What does Mummy start with?"

"M!" Olivier exclaimed, searching for the M key on the typewriter. "Uh-oh!" he said once he had punched the button. "It's not big!"

"Okay, I'll press down this button here while you press the M key," Christian explained. "Then it will be capitalized."

"Okay," Oliver said. "There we go!"

"Yeah! Now what comes after M?" Christian asked. 

"Umm…U?" he asked.

"Yep, that's right," Christian said. 

"Make sure you're pressing down that key!"

"No, we don't need to know," Christian said. "The U doesn't need –" He turned around in his seat as a shadow filled the room. "Father!" 

There was his father, Jonathan standing in the doorway. His cold, gray eyes looked down at Christian.

"I thought you were at the Smith's. What are you doing home early?" Christian asked as he picked Olivier up off his lap and held him close. 

"Edward came down with a cold," he said shortly. His eyes moved to Olivier who was clutching onto Christian. "Who's this?"

Christian swallowed hard. "This is my son, Father. My son, Olivier."

Jonathan looked back up, his eyes boring into Christian's. "You disgust me," he spat before turning and walking down the hallway.


	5. News

Chapter 4 -

**Disclaimer - ** Everything from Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrmann. Anything else is my creation.

**A/N - ** Once again, thanks so much for the reviews! And about everyone wanting Olivier....Well, you'll just have to wait and see what happens. *cackles and rubs hands together* This chapter is a long one, so sorry if I bore you. Please leave a review when you're finished. Thank you!

Christian ran down the hallway, Olivier at his heels, hoping that he'd get to Satine before his father did. _Damn him!_ Christian thought. _Why did he have to come back early? Everything was going so well!_

He skidded into the room and cursed to himself. There was his father and brother, Frederick standing in the middle of the room. His father's eyes were wide and he looked livid. Frederick had his nose turned up as he studied Satine.

"Who is this?" Jonathan hissed to Christian, pointing at Satine, whose face was white and her hands were shaking in her lap. Olivier ran across the room and sat next to Satine. 

"Father, this is Satine," Christian said. He walked over with Olivier and put his hands on Satine's shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "She's Olivier's mother."

Jonathan looked down his nose at Satine. "Are you two married?"

They both shook their heads. 

"You're not married!" Jonathan roared. "And you've already given birth to a child?" He turned his head, a disgusted look on his face. "Where did you meet?"

"In France," Christian said. 

"Ah, see!" Jonathan said, a triumphant look on his face. "Like I said, you have ended up with a can-can dancer from that damn Moulin Rouge!"

"Father!" Christian shouted, feeling Satine recoil under his grip. Her cheeks were burning and she tried to hush Olivier up who kept asking. "What is he talking about, Mummy? What is he talking about?"

"Come here, let me look at you," Jonathan said, pointing to Satine. Christian slowly loosened his grip on Satine as she stood up, a small cough emitting from her mouth. Christian gave his father a look that clearly said, "Don't touch her." 

As Satine walked across the room, her coughing grew worse and worse. She covered her mouth with her handkerchief as she leaned over, her coughing consuming her. Her eyes rolled in the back of head and she became faint.

"Mummy!" Olivier shrieked. 

"Satine!" Christian ran over and caught her, just as her legs gave way and she collapsed. Her handkerchief fell from her limp hand and Christian saw blood seeping through the thin material. He moved his foot over the handkerchief, hiding the blood from Olivier's view. 

"Quick!" cried Victoria, suddenly taking charge. "Take her to the guest room!"

Christian ran down the hallway, Satine in his arms. Victoria opened the door to the room, letting Christian lay Satine on the large bed. 

"Mummy!" Olivier shrieked, running into the room. "What's wrong? What's wrong with her, Daddy?"

"I'll go get the doctor," Victoria said, rushing out into the hallway. 

Samantha and Elizabeth came in, carrying a small tub filled with water and a sopping rag. "Here, take this, Christian," Elizabeth said. 

Christian took the rag and began to dab Satine's face with it. "Come on, Satine. Wake up, darling. Wake up," he whispered under his breath. 

"Daddy, what's wrong with Mummy?" Olivier climbed onto the bed with his mother. 

"I don't know, Olivier, I don't know," he said. 

"So, of all the women you could of chosen, you chose one that was dying," Jonathan said shortly as he appeared in the doorway. 

"Shut up!" Christian shouted.

Samantha let out a cry and Elizabeth gasped. _No one_ ever dared to say that to Jonathan James. 

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I told you to shut up," Christian said quietly, walking over to his father. "I have finally found the woman I love and I've found my _son_ after _six whole years_! Doesn't that mean anything to you? You've controlled me and told me what to do for my whole life! Don't you dare think your disgusting comments will make me change my mind now! Going to the Moulin Rouge and meeting Satine has been the best thing that's ever happened to me. My life has changed! Knowing I have a beautiful, smart son makes it ten times better! Just because you don't approve of it doesn't mean I'm automatically going to bow down to you and forget them!" Christian took a deep breath, feeling a lot lighter as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. 

Everyone's eyes were on Jonathan. But, for once, he didn't know how to answer to this. He turned on his heel and left the room. 

Christian walked back over to Satine and kissed her forehead. He began to dab Satine's face once more, despite the absolute silence in the room.

"Is Mummy really dying?" Olivier asked, trembling from head to foot, tears forming in his eyes. 

"Of course not, Olivier," Christian said calmly. He leaned over and set him in his lap and kissed the top of his head. "Of course not." 

Elizabeth and Samantha quietly left the room, leaving Christian holding Olivier next to Satine as tears began streaming down both their faces.

~*~

"The doctor's here! Dr. Williams is here!" Victoria shouted thirty minutes later as she ran into the house. Dr. Williams was holding a bulky doctor's bag and had a stethoscope around his neck. 

"Satine is up here, Dr. Williams," she said, leading him to the guest room upstairs. She opened the door to find Satine still unconscious on the bed and Christian was sitting in a chair that had been moved next to the bed with a sleeping Olivier in his lap. 

"Christian, the doctor is here," Victoria said quietly, hoping that they wouldn't wake Olivier up.

Christian slowly stood up and moved Olivier to another chair across the room. "Thank you for coming, doctor," he said. 

Victoria began to wrap something very tightly around Satine's right arm. "Dr. Williams is going to take some blood," she explained.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Mr. James," Dr. Williams said kindly. "Victoria will come out when we're ready to talk to you."

Christian nodded as he picked up Olivier and silently walked out of the room. He sat down outside the hallway and waited. 

And waited. 

Olivier woke up and began to rub his eyes. "Where's Mummy?" he immediately asked. 

"The doctor is here and is going to check her over. To see what made Mummy faint," Christian explained. 

"I love Mummy," Olivier said. "I don't want to see her get sick."

"Neither do I, Olivier," he said quietly. "I love your mother too." 

The door to the guest room finally opened and Victoria walked out. "The doctor wants to talk to you, Christian." 

Christian stood up. "Stay right here, Olivier." 

He walked into the room and sat down in a chair facing the doctor.

"Mr. James," Dr. Williams said slowly. "Satine is dying."

"No, she's not!" Christian jumped up in his seat. "No, she's not! She's not dying!"

He nodded sadly. "She has consumption."

"Consumption?" Christian cried. "No, no, she can't!" He sat back down in his seat and buried his head in his hands. "She can't have consumption."

"I'm afraid so," the doctor said. "I suggest that you take Miss Satine to a warmer climate, Bournemoth, I would say. It will help her breath easier."

"But there's got to be something we can do!" Christian said. "Any medicines? Any thing we can give her?"

The doctor shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. Just bed rest and fresh air. The city's pollution is not good for her at all." 

"H-How long does she, um, have to live?" Christian asked weakly.

The doctor thought for a moment. "A few months at the least. I'm sorry," He stood up and began to pack up his bag. "Good day," he said as he opened the door and walked outside. 

Christian numbly walked over to Satine and took her hands in his. He started to kiss her fingers as tears flowed down his face. 

Victoria walked over and wrapped his arms around Christian's shoulders. "Everything will be all right," she whispered. Christian didn't answer, he just began to sob even harder so Victoria quickly left the room. 

"Christian," Victoria said, opening the door again. "Where's Olivier?"

Christian looked up. "I told him to stay there!" He started to run out the door, wondering where in the world Olivier could be. "Olivier!" he called. 

"Daddy! Look what I made!" Olivier ran out of Christian's room, waving a piece of paper in the air. 

Christian stopped walking and bent down at Olivier's eye level. "What did you make?"

"I finished the card for Mummy, but I kinda made it into a get well card," he explained, showing him the paper.

It said at the top of the paper...

MMummy is niice

get Welll soon

Tears began to spill down Christian's face. "She'll love it, Olivier."

Olivier reached up and touched Christian's tear stained face. "What's wrong, Daddy?"

Christian picked up Olivier up and walked down the hallway. "Let's go see if Mummy has woken up yet and then I'll tell you."

When they walked into Satine's room, she was still unconscious. Christian sat down on the chair that was next to Satine's bed. "I-I'm not going to lie to you and say that Mummy is fine. Because she is sick," Christian said to Olivier who was sitting on his lap. "Mummy has a disease called consumption. Have you heard of that?"

Olivier shook his head. "Is the disease bad?"

Christian sighed. "It depends, Olivier. It depends."

"Is Mummy's bad?" he asked. 

"We're not sure," he said. "Consumption is a disease in Mummy's lungs. But then, it spreads throughout the rest of her body and can make her very sick. And remember when Mummy fainted, before she was coughing very hard?"

Olivier nodded.

"That's one of the symptoms for consumption," Christian explained. "Another one is having a hard time breathing and sweating. See how Mummy is sweating right now?" 

Olivier nodded again, his eyes wide. "Is Mummy going to die?"

"Not if we take good care of her!" Christian said, trying to put on a smile. "The doctor says we should move to a warmer climate."

"Where?" Olivier asked.

"He suggested Bournemoth, it's by the coast and will be much warmer and help Mummy breath." 

"Mummy! You're awake!" Olivier cried, jumping out of Christian's lap and running to the bed.

Satine's eyes were slowly opening. Her face was pale and sweat was dripping down her forehead. 

"Mummy, are you okay?" Olivier asked, climbing onto the bed.

Satine smiled. "Oh, I've been better." Her voice was faint and very strained. She reached up and stroked Olivier's brown hair. 

"How are you feeling, darling?" Christian asked as he sat down the bed, kissing Satine's forehead.

She sighed. "A bit faint, but alright."

"Olivier," Christian said kindly. "Can you please leave me and Mummy alone? We need to talk."

Olivier frowned and crossed his arms. "Do I have to?" he whined.

"Yes," Satine said firmly. "Daddy and I need to talk."

"Fine!" he shouted, stomping off and letting the door slam behind him.

Christian sighed. "I'm sorry about him."

"Oh, that's alright," Satine whispered. She slowly moved over on the bed and patted the seat next to her.

"Satine," Christian started. "The doctor came." He cupped her chin with his hand and kissed her. "He said..." Christian muttered after awhile. "He said... Oh, Satine, you have consumption!"

Satine looked sadly in Christian's eyes. "I know," she whispered.

"You know?" he cried. "How?"

"Harold told me," Satine said, pushing Christian's hair out of his eyes. "The night we said we were going to leave."

He laid his head on her shoulder. "How come you didn't tell me?"

"Then you left," Satine said quietly. 

He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. "Satine, this is all my fault," he said between kisses. "If I hadn't left you, if I hadn't taken you so damn seriously and left, I would have been able to take care of you. Then you wouldn't be sick." Christian put his head in her lap.

"Oh, Christian, that's not true!" Satine said, fighting back tears of her own. "I was sick even before you left. Why do you think I fainted off the trapeze?"

Christian looked back up at Satine, tears streaming down his face. 

"Don't cry, darling," Satine said, bending down and kissing the top of his head. "Don't cry."

Christian smiled and began to rub Satine's stomach. "Amazing, isn't it? That little Olivier was one in here."

Satine grinned. "Though he didn't seem so little!"

There was a knock on the door and Christian quickly got off the bed, straightening his shirt. "Come in!"

The door slowly opened and Olivier ran in, holding a piece of paper. "Mummy! Mummy, I forgot to give this to you!" He handed Satine the paper and crawled under the blanket.

"Mummy is nice. Get well soon," Satine read. "Oh, Olivier! It's beautiful!"

"Look! And I drew a picture!" Olivier said, pointing to the paper. 

"How wonderful!" Olivier had drawn Satine holding hands with him, but Christian was on the other side of the page and looking quite grumpy. "Why does Daddy look mad?"

Olivier pulled the blanket over his head and shrugged. "I don't know."

Satine patted his head and gave a small smile to Christian. "Did Daddy tell you what the doctor said?"

He moved the blanket from his face and nodded. "But you don't have to worry at all, Mummy. I'll take good care of you," he said, wrapping his arms around her neck.

"I love you, Olivier," Satine murmured, hugging him back. She smiled sadly to Christian.

"Daddy says we have to move," Olivier said. "Mummy, I don't want to!"

Satine looked at Christian. "Why do we have to move?"

"The doctor says you should be in a warmer climate," Christian said, sitting down at the foot of the bed. "Somewhere without all the pollution, you could breathe easier."

"But where?" Satine asked.

"The doctor suggested Bournemoth."

"How are we going to pay for the move? Where are we going to stay?" Satine cried.

"Excuse me," said Samantha who had just come in the room. "It's time for dinner."

"Alright, thank you, Sam," Christian said, sitting up from the chair. "Would you like for me to bring you your dinner in here, darling?" he asked Satine.

"Yes, please," Satine said with a sigh.

"Can I eat in here with you, Mummy?" Olivier asked.

"No, you need to go eat with the rest of the family," Satine said kindly.

"Come on, Olivier," Christian said, holding out his hand. Olivier just ran out of the room and down the hallway.

When Christian walked into the dining room, Elizabeth and Samantha surrounded him and began to ask questions.

"How's Satine?" Elizabeth asked. "Did the doctor know why she fainted?"

"Victoria wouldn't tell us _anything!_" Samantha cried, jumping up and down.

Christian took a deep breath and said. "Satine has consumption. We're not sure how bad it is, but we are planning on moving to Bournemoth where its near the coast, warmer and will help her breathe."

"Bournemoth!" Elizabeth cried. "The Smith's have a summer home there that they aren't using this year. I'm sure they'll let you stay there!"

Christian's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's wonderful! Would you mind contacting them right now?"

"Oh, but Christian..." she said, sounding very sad. "Consumption... I'm so sorry. How long does she have?" she whispered.

Christian shook his head. "I'm going to tell Satine that first." He turned to Victoria who just walked in the room. "Vicky, could you fix –" She was holding a silver tray, with chicken soup and crackers on it. 

"I thought Satine would like to have supper in her room," she said.

"Vicky, you're amazing," he said, taking the tray and kissing her forehead. He walked back down the hallway to Satine's room. 

"Oh, thank you so much, Christian!" she said as he put the tray in her lap. 

"Anytime, dear," Christian said, kissing the top of her head. "Just call us if you need anything. We're just down the hall." As he turned to leave, he remembered. "Mother said that the Smith's have a summer home in Bournemoth that we might be able to use."

"Oh, Christian that's wonderful!" Satine exclaimed.

"Yes, it is," he said, a grin forming on his face.

"Christian..." she said slowly. "How long do I have to live?"

Christian was taken aback by this question and he walked back over to the bed. "Well, um, Satine... I don't really recall the doctor –"

"Christian," she said sternly. "Please tell me."

He blinked back tears as stroked Satine's cheek. "The doctor said three months at the least."

Satine nodded slowly, pushing the tray at the end of the bed. "Three months..." Tears spilled down her face as she took this in.

Christian wiped away his own tears as he buried his face in his hands. "Satine, I don't think I'll be able to go on without you," he confessed.

"Don't say that!" she cried.

"What?" he lifted his head from his hands.

"Don't say that!" Satine repeated. She stood up suddenly and walked over to where Christian was standing. "We have a son, Christian! You can't fall apart just because of me!"

"Oh, Satine," Christian murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"No!" she cried, backing away from him. "Listen to me! You have to take care of Olivier when I-I… when I die." Tears began to flow down her face again as realization struck her once more. 

"Satine, no!" Christian said, stepping towards her. "You're not going to die. I'll take care of you, I'll take care of you," he put his hand on her shoulder as Satine began to cry even harder.

"Christian, no," she said. "You know I'm going to die. We both know it." She reached up and stroked Christian's tear stained cheek. "Promise me, Christian… Don't fall apart. You just can't… it's for Olivier's sake."

Christian nodded, taking Satine's hand and kissing it. "I'll raise Olivier well, Satine. Don't worry."


	6. Bournemoth

Chapter 5 - Bournemoth

**A/N - ** Sorry it took so long to post! I hope you like this chapter. :) Once again, I own nothing Moulin Rouge-ish and Bournemoth, obviously isn't mine. Please read and review when you've finished!

Christian walked down the stairs and pushed open the door to the dining room as he straightened his shirt . It had been three days since Satine had fainted and that had been enough time to talk with the close family friends, the Smith's. They had been more than willing to lend them their summer home in Bournemoth as long as needed. 

Today was the day Christian, Satine and Olivier were moving and they had wakened up early so they could get to Bournemoth at a reasonable time. Their things had been moved the day before.

"Look at Daddy!" Olivier shrieked as Christian walked into the room, dissolving into a fit of giggles. "He shaved his beard!"

Christian grinned widely as he sat down at the kitchen table in between Satine and Olivier. Elizabeth, Samantha and Victoria were sitting on the other side of the table.

"My goodness," Satine commented, a smile playing at her lips as she stroked Christian's cheek. 

"You don't like it?" Christian took Satine's hand and kissed it.

"You look so much younger!" Samantha said as she ate her scrambled eggs. Victoria nodded in agreement.

"I think you look wonderful," Satine said and kissed Christian's cheek.

Samantha looked down back at her plate, blushing furiously. Christian laughed and patted her leg underneath the table.

"Mummy, when are we going to leave?" Olivier asked.

"Well, the train leaves at 10:30," she said. "So we've got about two hours. Is that right, Christian?"

Christian nodded, his mouth full of toast. 

"Christian."

He looked up and saw his brother, Frederick standing in the doorway of the dining room. "Yes?"

"I'd like to speak with you," his blue eyes were staring straight at Christian.

"Oh, sure," Christian said, hastily getting out of his chair. He followed Frederick out of the room and down the hallway, into the guest room. "What is it?" 

"Here," Frederick said, holding out a fat envelope. "Take this."

Christian opened the envelope and gasped. Inside was the largest amount of money he had seen in the longest time. "I-I can't take this, Frederick!" 

He nodded firmly. "Take it."

"But, Frederick!" Christian looked at him. This was very unlike him. "Why?"

"Because I know you're going through a hard time and since you're moving, I thought this would be best..." His voice faltered, but his sharp, blue eyes were still looking straight at Christian.

Christian studied Frederick. He had never been close to his brother. Frederick was always falling under his father's power and followed him around while Christian would be at the creek, dangling his feet in the water, writing poetry and daydreaming.

"I've seen you and Satine together…" Frederick said slowly. "You too really love each other and… Well, Satine doesn't have much longer and I just thought this would help."

Christian blinked back tears that were forming behind his eyes as he wrapped his arms around his brother. "Thank you, Frederick. Thank you."

~*~

Satine walked through the living room where she had first met Christian's family. She knew she would never see this place again, she thought, sitting on the couch and taking everything in. 

Satine's life was ending rapidly and she just wasn't ready. She had just found Christian and she had a young son… Why did she have to leave them now? 

Yes, she did have a few more months with them, but as she left Christian's home it felt as if she was being led straight to the cemetery right now. 

"Satine?"

Satine looked up at the doorway and saw Christian with Olivier clinging onto his leg. "It's time to go," he said quietly. 

"Mummy, I don't what to move!" Olivier cried, running over to his mother. "I like our house right now."

"And so do I!" she said. "And we'll be able to move back once I - once I get better…"

"So we're not moving forever?" he said, his green eyes lighting up.

"No!" Satine exclaimed. "Of course not!"

"Good," he said, looking very relieved. 

"The carriage is here to take us to the train station," Christian said, looking extremely sad.

"We're going on a train?" Olivier cried.

"How do you think we're going to get there?" Satine laughed. "Walk?"

"No!" Olivier giggled.

"Well, then let's go!" Satine stood up and took Olivier's hand. 

"Are you all right?" Christian asked as Satine walked by. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Yes," Satine said, nodding. "I'll be fine."

As they walked outside they found the Elizabeth, Samantha and Victoria waiting out by the carriage that was at the end of the driveway. 

Christian gave them all a hug and a kiss and Olivier waved good-bye as he explored the carriage. 

Knowing she would never see Satine again, Victoria flung her arms around her neck, fighting back tears. "I'm so glad to have met you, Satine!"

"And you, Victoria," Satine said, patting her back. 

Samantha, who didn't really know what was going on, gave Satine a hug and walked back to her mother. 

"Good-bye, Elizabeth," Satine said. "Thank you so much for letting us stay here."

"Oh, it was my pleasure, dear," she said, giving Satine a hug. "It was my pleasure."

With the help of Christian, Satine stepped into the carriage, gave one last wave and they were off.

Christian looked up at the house and saw Victoria, Samantha and Elizabeth still at the gate, waving at them. His father could be seen at the upstairs window, but Frederick was no where in sight.

~*~

Olivier sat on the train, a pad of paper in his lap. He began to draw as his mother and father talked quietly to one another on the other side of their compartment. It had begun to rain once they got onto the train but it was thinning out as they got farther and farther from London. 

Olivier turned away as his parents kissed and started to draw some more on his pad of paper. He didn't understand; his mother and father were so nervous about moving to this summer home. Why? It was just so Mummy could get better and she said herself that she wouldn't die… what was the big deal?

~*~

Satine slowly walked up the steps that led to a large deck connected to the Smith's summer home. They had finally made it to Bournemoth. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and the purple clouds were parting, exposing twinkling stars. You could hear the water hitting against the rocks from nearby and you could smell the faint scent of salt from the ocean.

"Mummy! Look!' Olivier cried. He had raced up to the deck ahead of Satine and Christian. "It's the ocean!"

As Satine stepped up on the deck she gasped. The sun was setting in the horizon, casting a glow on the endless ocean, and reflecting colors of gold and purple everywhere. 

"Oh, my," Christian said, walking over to Satine. 

"It's beautiful…" Satine breathed. 

"How wonderful life is now you're in the world…" Christian sang under his breath, reminiscing about the night they first met. 

Satine sighed dreamily as she laid her head down on his shoulder. 

"Well, are you guys comin' or not?" Olivier blurted out and walked to a pair of French doors leading into the house behind them. "It's locked!" he said, jiggling the handle.

"Oh, that's right," Christian muttered fishing around in his pocket. He walked over to the door to unlock it.

"Let me do it!" Olivier said irritably, taking the key from his hand. He struggled to fit the key in the lock.

"No, darling," Satine said gently, taking his hand and turning the key right side up. "You open it this way."

Christian opened the door to reveal a large sitting area with three different doors leading to the rest of the house. A box of their clothing and a few belongings were in the middle of the room. "This can't be everything in our house, is it, Mummy?" Olivier asked, noticing the box. 

"No, it's just a few things we need here at this house," Satine said, switching on a lamp. 

"Where are we going to sleep?" he asked, walking through one of the door into the hallway. 

"Well, let's see…" Christian picked up the box and followed him down the hallway. "This looks like the nursery; you could sleep there, Olivier. And this room looks nice," he commented, pushing open a door across the hall. "This is where you and I could sleep, Satine."

"But I want to sleep with Mummy!" Olivier exclaimed.

"No, you need to sleep in your room, Olivier," Satine said joining them in the hallway.

"But, Mummy!" Olivier whined.

"But nothing!" she said sternly. "You're obviously tired and need your sleep!"

"Hmph!" Olivier crossed his arms and stomped into his room.

"Oh, he must be so tired," Satine muttered, massaging her forehead as she walked into the room across the hall. 

"And his life has practically been turned around." Christian said. "In a few days he'll get used to the house and he'll be fine."

"Yes, I sure hope so," Satine replied, digging around in the box and pulling out a nightgown along with a few other things. She slipped on her nightgown before walking out of the room and gently knocking on Olivier's door.

"Who is it?" he grumbled.

"It's Mummy," she replied as she turned the doorknob and walked into the room.

"Here you go," Satine said, to Olivier who was sitting on the bed, his arms still crossed. "Here's your pajamas and your elephant." She handed him his clothes and his stuffed elephant. 

He just sat there, looking at his lap and his arms still crossed.

"Good night, Olivier," she said, walking out of the room. 

Satine walked over to their room across the hall and with a sigh collapsed onto their bed. Christian lay down on the bed next to her and turned off the light on the bedside table causing the moonlight to flood into their room and cast an eerie glow on them both. Satine wrapped the thick blankets around them and kissed Christian deeply. And as they lay there, their hearts beating as one, they fell into a long awaited, deep sleep.


	7. Sometimes Mummies and Daddies don't know...

Chapter 6 – 

****

A/N – Sorry it took so long to post this up! Since school has started it's been mucho harder. This chapter is dedicated to Kara, because frankly, I don't want to die by Velveeta cheese. 

Two months had passed by and Satine's health couldn't have been better. Everyday Christian, Satine and Olivier went to the pasture behind the home, and then, would have lunch at the beach. 

Olivier and Christian's relationship grew enormously throughout these past months. You could find them sitting together outside on the deck, watching the sun set and admiring the twinkling stars. You could see their heads sticking out from the tall grass in the meadow behind the house in the afternoons.

Of course, Christian felt bad about leaving Satine out of their hikes up the hill or the most recent scavenger hunt that Olivier and created, but Satine would just smile, shake her head and send them on their way.

One particularly hot and humid morning, Satine could be found washing the sheets of her and Christian's bed in a large tub on the deck outside the house. 

"Good morning, Satine," Christian said happily, walking onto the deck. He looked out onto the ocean and took a deep breath.

"'Morning, dear," Satine replied with a smile.

Christian noticed what she was doing and asked, "Why are you washing the sheets? I washed them just a few weeks ago."

"Oh, I know that," Satine said calmly. "I just felt they were a bit stiff."

Christian just shrugged and went back into the house; Olivier was calling from his room.

The truth was, and Satine obviously didn't want Christian to know about this, was that Satine had found stains on her pillowcase and sheets this morning. This worried Satine extremely, she hadn't had a coughing fit for several months now. Her throat seized up just at the memory when she would be up hours during the night, coughing violently.

"Mummy! Mummy!" Olivier burst through the double doors, breaking Satine's train of thought and began to bounce around the deck. "Daddy says it's hot enough that we can go swimming!"

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" Satine commented as she rubbed some dirt of his cheek. How he got dirt on his face five minutes after he woke up, Satine couldn't say. 

"Well, can we go?" Olivier cried, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"You and Dad can go," she said. "I'm not going to swim."

Olivier's face fell. "Why not?"

Christian walked out onto the deck, a piece of toast in his hand. "It would be best, though. In this heat, I mean."

Olivier turned back to his mother and stuck out his lower lip. "Pwease, Mummy?"

Satine threw up her hands and cried, "Looks like I don't have a choice, do I?"

~*~

Olivier rushed past his parents who were walking hand in hand along the beach and ran into the dark blue waters. Satine and Christian laughed as he shot back out of the water and onto the hot sand. 

"T-The wat-ter's so c-cold!" Olivier cried, his teeth chattering violently.

Christian picked up Olivier and walked slowly into the water, the white foam splashing against his ankles.

"Come on, Mummy!" he called from behind his father's back.

Satine, suddenly feeling very hot, began to fan herself with her hand as she walked deeper into the water.

Christian set Olivier slowly down in the water, it eventually reaching waist. "Why is the water so cold?" he asked.

"Well, England isn't really –"

"Mummy!" Olivier's shriek cut Christian off. He turned around just to see Satine's legs collapse underneath her and fall into the knee-deep water.

Christian quickly grabbed Satine under her arms and pulled her onto the sand. Olivier was right behind him, arms flailing as he fought to run through the water.

Christian sat down, Satine in his lap as she violently coughed up salt water and blood onto the ground.

"Daddy, what's happening?" Olivier screamed, horror etched in his young face as he saw his mother's body go limp in his father's arms. He rushed to Satine's feet and began to pat her wet, blood stained face. "Mummy, wake up! Wake up! What's wrong, Mummy?"

"Olivier," Christian said sharply, standing up and holding Satine in his arms. "Run ahead of me and get a bowl of water – with a glass – and meet me in Mummy's room. Hurry!" Olivier sped off to the house and up the stairs to the deck. 

"Don't worry, Satine," Christian muttered under his breath. "You'll be fine, just hang in there, darling." He walked up the never-ending steps that led up to the house. He could see Olivier dragging a basin down the hallway, splashing water onto the rug. "Bring it into Mummy's room," Christian said as he followed Olivier.

Olivier looked up at the limp form of his mother's body in Christian's arms and burst into tears. He sat there in the middle of the hallway, his head in his hands and fat tears falling from his eyes. Christian couldn't do anything except step over him and continue into Satine's room. He carefully lay her on the bed and put his lips to hers, beginning to breathe for her. 

Minutes later, Satine's chest began to heave up and down as she struggled to cough up the water that had been collecting in her lungs. Christian sat her up and bloody water poured from her mouth onto the floor. Olivier's shrieks grew louder as Satine's breath became calmer. 

"Olivier..." she gasped, clutching Christian's arms tightly as she got her breath back. "Olivier, come... here."

He jumped onto the bed and wrapped his shaking arms around his mother. Satine's frayed nerves finally began to calm and she set Olivier in her lap. Christian stroked her cheek, muttering comforting nonsense as she lay her head on his shoulder. 

There they sat, breathing as one, and only two were ignorant to the events that would follow. 

~*~

Christian walked back into Satine's room after putting Olivier to sleep. Exhausted from the day's fatigues he had fallen asleep immediately. Satine too was asleep in their room. The blood and water was cleaned up earlier and the three of them lay in that room, talking quietly. 

He studied Satine's sleeping figure. Her breathing was back to normal, but she was still sickly pale and continued to cough up blood often. The moon's gaze fell upon her face causing her to look weaker and her eyes fluttered open. She looked at Christian standing in the doorway and smiled. He walked over and sat next to her on the bed.

"Christian..." Satine raised her hand weakly and set it gently on his shoulder. 

"Yes, darling?" he replied softly.

"Where's Olivier?" she asked, looking at the light pouring in from the hallway. 

"I just put him to bed."

"Bring him in here, please."

"But... why?" Christian grasped Satine's hand and looked into her sad eyes. "Satine! No! No, it can't be –"

Satine, knowing what Christian was thinking, lightly closed her eyes and nodded. "Please, Christian..."

He quickly rushed out into the hallway and opened the door to Olivier's room. Hacking coughs escaped from Satine's lips when Christian left. "Olivier," he said softly. "Wake up..."

Already fast asleep, Olivier rolled over in his bed, his dark hair falling in his innocent face. "Hmm?"

"Wake up, Olivier," Christian found his voice shaking. "Mummy want to talk to you."

Wearily, Olivier wrapped his arms around Christian's neck and he carried him to Satine's room. 

"Hello, Mummy," Olivier climbed onto Satine's bed and crawled up to where she was propped up by many pillows.

Tears began to stream down Satine's and Christian's face as Olivier nestled himself in the crook of her arm. 

"Olivier," Satine said slowly. "You understand that Mummy's very sick, correct?"

"Yes," Olivier yawned. "But you're going to get better. Daddy said so."

Satine raised her hand and stroked Olivier's hair. "Sometimes Mummy's and Daddy's don't know everything." 

Olivier rubbed his eyes with his small fists. "Mummy, what do you mean?" He turned around on his stomach and lay his head on Satine's stomach. 

Satine looked down at Olivier who had already fallen asleep and couldn't hold it in any longer. She covered her face with the sheet and began to cry. Blood stained through the linen as her sobs grew louder. Christian sat down on the bed next to Satine and put a cup of water to her lips. "It's all right, Satine. Drink this, darling," He bit his lips to hold back his own tears. "Don't worry."

"Mummy! What's wrong?" Olivier cried. "Why is there blood on the sheet?" He began to cry as his mother collapsed on the pillow.

"Listen, Olivier," she said hoarsely. "Mummy is sick... and – and Mummy isn't going to get better."

There was a moment of silence. Satine held her breath, her gaze on Olivier. His eyes were wide as he took this all in. Christian held out his arm and pulled Olivier to his lap. 

"No!" he screamed, jumping from Christian's lap. "No, you're lying, Mummy! You can't be... you can't be dying!" He flung himself over Satine's limp body and dissolved into tears.

"Olivier, Olivier," Satine whispered. "Please stop crying. Don't cry over me..."

"Why not?" he sobbed.

"Because I love you too much." She smiled. "It hurts me to see you cry like this."

Olivier looked up at his mother and wiped his face with the back of his hand. "I love you too, Mummy."

Hot tears stung Satine's eyes and threatened to spill over onto her face. She turned to Christian who was sobbing silently in the corner of the room. "Come here, darling," she said gently. He jumped, startled and walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Satine took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Satine!"

"Kiss me," she whispered.

Christian put his hands carefully behind Satine's head and pressed his lips to hers. It was a kiss more passionate than their first, more passionate than when they were reunited. A kiss full of love and sorrow, of laughter and tears.

"Satine..." Christian murmured after a moment. "What am I supposed to do?"

She sighed. "Take care of our son, Christian."

Christian's face went white with panic. "How can I... without you?"

"Oh, Christian, you're an amazing father," Satine said, her eyes filling up with tears. "But you can't fall apart."

"I won't."

"Christian," she pleaded. "You _can't _fall to pieces just because of me. Olivier isn't worth it... promise me, Christian."

"I promise," Christian said through his tears.

"Promise me one more thing, dear."

"Anything, Satine," he replied.

"Tell Olivier our story," Satine said. "In whatever way you can, make sure you tell him our story."

Christian smiled down at Satine. "Of course, darling." He straightened up, sitting on the bed. Olivier climbed into his lap and clutched Satine's hands between his.

Satine beamed at Olivier and Christian; both with tear stained faces and looking more alike than ever. She squeezed Olivier's hand with the last of her strength and whispered, "You two will never know how much I love you..." Satine took her last shuddering breath, and her hand went limp in Olivier's grasp.

Christian bowed his head onto Olivier's shoulder and he began to scream, "Mummy, wake up! Mummy!"

"Olivier..." Christian said softly, holding him closer to his body.

"No! Get off of me!" Olivier screamed. "It's all your fault!" And he ran out of the room.

Christian followed him into the hall way and onto the deck. "Olivier, come here –"

"No!" Olivier turned around and was beating his fists against Christian's chest. "It's all your fault Mummy died! It's all your fault! I hate you!"

"Olivier!" Christian gasped, holding Olivier's hands away from him. "What are you talking –"

"Ever since you came here, Mummy started getting sick! I hate you!" He ran back into the house and sobs could be heard from his room.

Christian walked numbly down the hall and pushed open the door to where Satine lay. He took Satine's limp hand and put it to his face, tears flowing freely. Reaching down, he closed Satine's eyelids over her empty, blue irises.

Christian tried to pretend it was morning, and he was calmly waking Satine up from her sleep. But Olivier's cries and the cold hand against his cheek abruptly brought him back to Earth and a loud sob escaped his throat.

Christian fell to his knees and buried his face in her pillow. "He hates me, Satine," he cried. "He hates me."


	8. Someone New

Chapter 7 -

A/N – I have FINALLY finished the next chapter of Olivier's Story. Goodness, it took me long enough, eh? Well, I hope I didn't lose all my readers! :) Feedback is always great. Everything Moulin Rouge-ish belongs to O Great Baz and well, you'll see what belongs to me. *grins widely* 

****

Eleven years later...

Olivier James walked slowly on his way home from school. 

It was a very gray day, like many in London but something else was in the air. Olivier knew what it was; it was quite obvious to him.

Today was Satine's, his mother's, birthday, which is also the reason for his procrastination. He knew that if he took a long enough time, his father would make his way to his mother's cemetery without him.

His father, Christian James, was a mess. 

Every night, when Olivier would be studying, Christian would go out and drink his sorrows away at a nearby pub. 

Absinthe was a name Olivier spat upon.

There were only three days of the whole year where Christian would go out of his way to be completely sober. Satine's birthday, death day and their anniversary of meeting.

For the last five years, Christian has forgotten Olivier's birthday completely. 

He was seventeen years old now.

As much as Olivier hated to admit it, he despised visiting his mother. Christian would huddle at her gravestone, muttering words that only existed with Satine, he would sing her songs, read her poetry. 

And Olivier would just stand there and watch his father's life float away with every tear.

So, instead of walking down the road his school was on, taking a left, then an immediate right to get to his house, he decided it was best to make walk on by the library, which was three miles west of his house. 

Olivier slung his bag stuffed with schoolbooks onto his shoulder and put his hands in his pockets. The library was a place where he could read and read and read without shame. For some reason, he had a problem about that at school.

Olivier was known at school for his dry sense of humor and that was about it. Although his grandparents were paying for tuition, he barely had enough money for supplies and Olivier was teased endlessly about this.

Also, unlike most boys his age, he was not physically talented at all. Olivier would much rather read endlessly at the library, which was a rare moment for him at school. He always seemed to find solace at this library.

But as Olivier turned the corner he saw there was a crowd surrounding the entrance to the library. There was a woman at the door handing out fliers to the men who were there.

"Women have as much right to read in this library as you do!" A female voice rose above the crowd. "Sign and you can help women earn that privilege!"

Olivier pushed to the front of the crowd and a flier was forced into his hand. The woman protesting waved a pointed finger in his face. "Do you think women have the right to enter this library as a civilian?" she demanded. Her blue eyes flashed and her already red cheeks flushed as a crumpled up flier flew through the air and hit her right on her forehead.

She just brushed it away and kept handing out fliers. "Help women earn -" She let out a cry as a book hit her on the side of her head.

People laughed as more books went flying through the air, bombarding the girl. She hid her face with the stack of fliers as people kept throwing books. Another man handed Olivier a thick, black one. "A shilling if you hit 'er on 'er nose!"

Olivier dropped the book in disgust before dashing out of the crowd and pulling the girl by the hand, dragging her out of the way. Men grabbed at her skirt as Olivier pushed their way through the crowd.

"Get your hands off me!" she screamed, throwing what was left of her fliers at Olivier. He made sure they had gone passed the corner.

"Who do you think you are?" She smoothed her green skirt and patted her short, light brown hair. "I had everything under control!"

Olivier snorted. "Hmm, that's odd. Because I thought I saw you being bombarded with books, of all things!" He shrugged. "But I've been know to be incorrect."

She glared at him. "Are you always that mean to people you rescue?"

"I wouldn't know!" he said. "I've never rescued anyone before!"

She smiled grimly. "How lucky for me."

Olivier bent down and picked up a few stray fliers. He looked up from where he stood and saw her rubbing her arm self-consciously. He then stepped back in surprise, realizing how tall she was. She had to have been a good two inches taller than him.

"You're pretty tall for a girl, aren't you?" he commented.

Her eyes flashed like they had earlier and she turned on her heel and stomped off in the opposite direction. 

"Wait!" Olivier called, running after her. "Let me at least walk you home!"

"Why should I?" she instead.

"I rescued you," he said.

"What does that have to do - "

"Nothing whatsoever." He stuck out his hand. "Olivier James."

She looked at him suspiciously, but shook his hand. "Rebecca."

"What a pleasure rescuing you, Rebecca," Olivier grinned.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine!" she said sarcastically. She pointed down the street. "I live this way."

"So, Rebecca," Olivier said. "What were you doing, protesting at the library for?"

Rebecca crossed her arms tightly and her face flushed. "Did you know that women are not allowed in that library without an older male escort?"

Olivier raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes!" she shrieked. "Women deserve the right to enter that library as civilians just like the men!"

"You're absolutely correct," Olivier agreed.

Rebecca stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really! They have as much right as everyone else to read!"

Her jaw dropped. "You're the first man who has ever agreed with me on that…"

Olivier bowed. "I'm honored!"

Rebecca turned and kept walking. "We turn this corner here."

Olivier walked a bit faster to keep up with her. "Do your parents approve of all this protesting you've been doing?"

"My parents are dead," Rebecca said shortly.

He felt his cheeks turn red. "I'm sorry."

Rebecca just shrugged and quickened her pace. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Why not?" Olivier said in surprise. "My mother's dead…"

"At least you have a father," she said bitterly.

Olivier shook his head. "Not really…"

Rebecca gave him an odd look. "What do you mean?"

He just shrugged. "Never mind."

"So, does your father approve of you rescuing stubborn feminists from riots?" Rebecca asked with a smirk.

"My father wouldn't care one way or the other," Olivier said, his lips tightening. 

There was a pause.

"How old are you, Olivier?"

"Seventeen."

"How convenient," Rebecca said dryly. "So am I."

"We seem to have a lot in common," Olivier pointed out. Rebecca just shrugged.

"Oh, this is where I live," Rebecca stopped at a small shabby bookshop with a sign that read "Myers Books."

"You live at a bookshop?" he asked.

"No, I work at the bookshop," Rebecca said. "I live upstairs in a two room apartment." She walked over to the door and put her hand on the doorknob. She paused and turned around. "Thank you, Olivier, for what you did today..."

Olivier blushed slightly. "Anytime, Rebecca." He took a step towards her. "I'm really glad I met you, and... I hope I see you again sometime."

"I'd like that," said Rebecca. She smiled, for the first time today. "Good-bye, Olivier."

As the door shut, Olivier felt his heart soar. He turned around and with a burst of energy ran down the street, and ran all the way home. All the while, grinning like a fool.


	9. Even

Chapter 8

A/N – Wow, finally got this chapter done! Sorry for the long wait. This chapter is dedicated to Milla – hope you had a jazzy birthday, dahling!

Disclaimer – Once again, Christian and Olivier belong to Baz and Rebecca belongs to me.

Olivier didn't stop running until he reached his home nine blocks away. His head was swimming, not from all the running, but from the angel he had just encountered. 

Maybe angel wasn't exactly the right word to describe Rebecca. She is... unique. A rare find. Someone you just don't meet everyday. He could figure that out by the few moments he knew her.

Olivier leaned against the doorframe to his house. Little raindrops began to fall from the sky_. Why all the tears?_ he wondered.

He turned round, his head full of thoughts of Rebecca, but his heard dropped through the ground when he saw a single candle flickering through the window.

His father was home.

Olivier took a deep breath, turned the doorknob, and walked into his hell of a home.

Christian sat at the table, slumped over a bottle of absinthe or something equally toxic. He didn't look up when Olivier walked in. Olivier walked over, took the bottle from his father, and promptly poured it out the open window above the table. Christian shifted in his seat and raised a pair of bloodshot eyes to Olivier's face. "You didn't go see your mother today."

"I went this morning," Olivier said shortly. He turned and leaned over to wash his face in the basin.

"You usually come with me..." he said slowly.

"Well, I didn't want to today." Olivier tried his face with a cloth on the table and picked up the bottle. "Where did you get the absinthe?"

His father didn't answer. He just stared out of the window.

Christian's family has given them money every month for food, clothes and whatnot. But Christian always seems to get to it first and spend some of the money of drinks. Olivier can usually use most of the money before Christian wastes it all.

Olivier walked over to the open door of their bedroom. "'Night, Christian."

~

Olivier walked quickly from school, holding his books close to his chest, trying not to be noticed. He had worked hard today, trying to keep his mind off things. Olivier loved getting lost in his books and his work no matter what other people thought. Christian wasn't home when Olivier woke up but he knew he was out at the graveyard. Christian usually mopes for about a week and –

"James!"

Olivier groaned inwardly and started to walk faster.

"James, why aren't you listening to me?"

Olivier heard footsteps behind him before being shoved to the ground.

"You listen to me, James!" Walter Williams' face appeared in front of him as Olivier rolled on his back. 

"Why should I?" Olivier scowled. He picked himself up, only to be pushed down on the gravel pathway again.

"Whatcha got here?" Walter picked up a pad of paper Olivier had dropped and flipped through the pages.

"Leave it, Williams," Olivier warned. He picked up the rest of the books on the ground.

Walter shook his head. "No, I think I'll keep it for a little while."

Olivier lunged for the pad but Walter jumped out of the way. He had grabbed his collar and fell, bringing Walter down with him. Olivier snatched the pad out of his way and threw it behind him. Walter raised his fist and it came down again, smashing Olivier's nose. Blood spurted onto his shirt and into his mouth.

"Stop it!" cried a voice behind them.

Olivier punched Walter in the stomach and he fell down onto his back.

A pair of hands grabbed Olivier by the shoulders and pulled him away from Walter. He jumped to his feet, turned around and saw Rebecca standing behind him with a very frightened look on her face. 

"Rebecca!" Olivier said through the blood pouring from his nose. 

She didn't answer, just started picking up Olivier's books. Walter just stood there, watching Rebecca, with his mouth handing open. Then Rebecca turned on her heel, grabbed Olivier by the arm and pulled him around the corner of the school building.

"Rebecca, what are you doing?" Olivier insisted as she kept walking along the side of the school. She stopped at a staircase and forced Olivier to sit down. She took a handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to Olivier.

"So I suppose we're even now, right?" Rebecca said lightly, her hands on her hips. She sighed loudly. "Now you're probably wanting me to walk you home, right?"

Olivier laughed into the handkerchief. "You're amazing."

She grinned. "I know."

He offered her the bloody handkerchief to Rebecca. "Do you need this back?"

Rebecca wrinkled her nose. "I don't think so..."

"How far are we from your home?" Olivier asked. "I'd like to get cleaned up a little."

"Oh, you're bleeding again!" she exclaimed. He put the handkerchief to his face again. "I don't live too far away from here." She picked up his books and began to walk off the campus of the school.

"You don't mind me coming over for a little while?" Olivier asked, catching up with her. 

"No, Armand might though," Rebecca replied. 

Olivier let his hand drop from his face momentarily. "Armand?"

"He's my cat."

Olivier grinned. "Where'd you come up with a name like that?"

"Ever read _Camille_ by Alexandre Dumas?" she asked. 

"Only a hundred times," he said. 

"Really?" Rebecca exclaimed. "You don't seem like the kind of person who would like it!"

"I love it."

"Why?"

"Well..." Olivier never really told anyone before. "It reminds me of my parents."

"Your parents?" Rebecca gave him a curious look.

"Yes."

"Do you mind me asking why?"

"Yes."

Rebecca stopped momentarily. "I'm sorry."

Olivier sighed. "No, I'm sorry. That was rude. My mother used to be a... kept woman in Paris. She and my father fell in love even they weren't allowed to."

"How come?" Rebecca asked.

He hesitated. "... I'm not sure."

There was a long, awkward pause.

"How did your mother die, Olivier?" she asked softly.

"Consumption," Olivier answered. "While we're on the subject... what about you?"

"My parents died in the war," she explained slowly. "My father was in the military. A bomb dropped in our neighborhood a few years ago and our roof collapsed on my mother."

Olivier gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Rebecca, I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "It's not your fault. I've actually been pretty lucky. A friend of the family's, Jonathan Myers took me in and let me live above his bookstore. It used to be an office of some sort so it's fairly large."

"That's good," agreed Olivier.

They turned a corner, and Rebecca said, "It's right up here." As they approached Myers Books she fished a key out of her pocket. Rebecca inserted it into the side door of the shop, opened it, and they walked up a long flight of stairs. There was another door at the top and they walked into her apartment. 

Olivier was amazed at the size; it was about the same as his house. There was a small cast-iron stove in the corner and a basin next to that. In the opposite corner there was a bed and a tattered, old love seat. A chair and a dresser were next to the bed under the window that looked out onto the street. A small black and white cat sat curled up on the bed lifted his head as Olivier and Rebecca entered.

"Hello, Armand!" Rebecca exclaimed. She took off her jacket and set it on the bed. Leaning down, she gave Armand a kiss on the head. "You can wash your face in that basin over there."

"Thanks." Olivier quickly washed his face, making sure all the dried blood was gone from his face. He took a cloth folded next to the basin to dry off. Rebecca was sitting on her bed with Armand in her lap. Olivier walked over and sat on the old loveseat. Armand immediately leaped up out of Rebecca's lap and lunged for Olivier's leg, claws out.

"Ah!" he howled, jumping out of his eat. Armand was still attached to his pant leg.

"Armand," Rebecca giggled. She gently plucked him off of Olivier's leg. "Aww, he likes you!"

"Likes me?" Olivier gasped, rubbing his leg. "He just tried to pull off my leg!"

Rebecca grinned and scratched Armand behind the ears, causing him to purr loudly. "Armand only _bites_ the people he doesn't like." 

Olivier saluted Armand. "I'm honored."

Rebecca nodded. "You should be!"

"Rebecca," Olivier said. "Have lunch with me tomorrow."

She raised one eyebrow suspiciously. "Why should I?"

"Because I want you to!"

"I suppose that's a good enough reason..."

"It better be!" Olivier said accusingly. "Oh wait, do you have school tomorrow?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Don't go to school – I'll be working."

"Okay... I guess I can skip school for you," Olivier winked.

"Oh, don't do that!"

"Why not? I don't want to go anyway," he said. "How about I pick you up at twelve?"

She sighed. "Okay."

Olivier stood up out of his seat and stuck out his hand. "Tomorrow at twelve then!"

She shook his hand. "You better not be late!"


	10. Happy Birthday

Chapter 9 

Disclaimer: Anything from Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz. Everything else belongs to me!

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to all the girls who asked if they could have Olivier. Sorry, chicas. And to one awesome friend – Norah. Have a wonderful birthday, sweetie!

Before going to pick up Rebecca, Olivier looked around the room once more to make sure everything was _just perfect_. Soup and sandwiches were on the table, house was clean and Christian was out. Olivier wasn't exactly sure where Christian was... but he was hoping he would stay out. 

He took one more glance around the room and set off for Myers Books.

~

Rebecca self-consciously checked her hair in the cracked mirror in Jonathan Myers' room behind the store. She had a rogue curl behind her ear and - was her rouge too dark? Maybe she should have worn her blue dress - green doesn't suit her. 

"Who's the special person?" Jonathan smiled behind his spectacles as he sat at his desk.

Rebecca's hands fell to her side. "Oh, no one. Just a friend."

"Are you sure it's just a friend?" he asked. "You seem pretty nervous."

"I'm positive!" she grinned. "Olivier James, he's –"

"Oh, so this 'friend' is male?" Jonathan teased.

Rebecca flushed. "Is there a problem with that – Oh, he's here!" She heard a bell ring as he entered the bookstore. 

"Have a good time, Rebecca," Jonathan said. "Be careful."

"I will," Rebecca said as she walked into the store. 

Olivier was close to the door looking up at a shelf of books.

"See anything you like?" Rebecca asked, walking behind the counter.

"I like all of them! Need any workers?" he joked.

Rebecca put her finger to her lips thoughtfully. "Actually, I think Jonathan was... just a moment!" She quickly ran back to Jonathan's room. "Jonathan! Do you need any workers for the store?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't think that's necessary."

"Oh, why not?" Rebecca gasped. "Can we make room for one more?"

Jonathan grinned, catching on. "Ah, I see what you mean. Bring the young man in here."

"Thank you, Jonathan!" Rebecca kissed him on the cheek before dashing out to the store again. 

"Olivier, would you like to work here?" she asked desperately. 

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Um, s-sure!"

"Come on then, Jonathan wants to talk with you," Rebecca said excitedly. She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to the back room.

"So I hear you would like to make yourself useful," Jonathan studied Olivier. "What's your name, son?"

"Olivier James, sir," he answered.

"Why a bookstore?" Mr. Myers asked. 

"I like books, sir," Olivier replied.

"Why this bookstore, though?" he asked. "There are hundreds throughout London."

"You seem to have a lot of books that weren't available before the war," Olivier commented. He started to become nervous – he didn't know an interview was included. 

"And you seem to have made a friend as well," Jonathan said amusedly.

Both Rebecca and Olivier blushed.

"Well," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I don't see any reason why you're unfit for the job. I'm a little unsure of your pay, the store hasn't been doing as well as I'd like..."

"Oh, that's perfectly fine, Mr. Myers," Olivier said.

Jonathan smiled warmly and stretched out his hand; Olivier shook it. "You can start Monday!"

"Thank you, Mr. Myers!" Olivier said excitedly. 

Olivier and Rebecca walked quickly out of the store and started on their way to his house.

"That was real nice of Mr. Myers to hire me and everything," Olivier said, breaking the awkward silence. The streets were eerily quiet; only a few people were out. Rebecca wrapped her thin jacket around her arms. "We've been needing an extra hand around the store for months."

Olivier quickly grabbed Rebecca's hand as they were walking. She glanced down, smiling to herself and didn't let go.

~

Olivier got the soup out of the basin into two bowls and set them on the table. He had spent all last night chopping newly purchased potatoes and vegetables. The soup was meatless – Olivier discovered only last night they couldn't afford any. Be he couldn't imagine Rebecca was that picky. 

Olivier sat down at the table across from Rebecca. There was a long, yet familiar, awkward silence. "Hope you like it."

"Oh, it's delicious," Rebecca swallowed a spoonful. 

It had started to rain lightly and a small pitter-patter sounded on the ceiling. Little drops of rain began to fall from a crack above the now empty basin. There were still a few birds sitting on a dying branch outside the window, singing a song for the two. 

Outside, Olivier heard shuffling of feet and he dropped his spoon into his bowl. _Oh no, Christian can't be here. That's now how it was supposed to work out!_

"What's the matter?" Rebecca asked.

Olivier stood up. "Christian –"

The door opened and Christian stumbled in. He was only semi-sober and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"You're home early, Christian," Olivier said stiffly. Rebecca got up from her chair and stood awkwardly. 

Christian ignored him and looked at Rebecca. "Are you going to introduce me, Olivier?"

Olivier walked over to Rebecca and lightly touched her shoulder. "Christian, this is Rebecca Stewart. Rebecca, this is Christian... my father."

She reached out her hand. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. James." Christian shook her hand, saying nothing. Rebecca added. "Olivier is a wonderful person. You should be very proud of him."

Christian nodded and made his way over to the table and sat in Olivier's seat. He pulled a small bottle of alcohol out of his coat pocket, opened the to and brought the bottle to his lips. 

Olivier reached over and quickly snatched the bottle from Christian's hands. Christian cried out and lunged for the bottle. Olivier dropped it and it shattered on the cement ground, sending its contents everywhere.

Christian collapsed into the chair and wept. Rebecca jumped from surprise.

"Olivier, that was going to be my only drink today," Christian pleaded, his head in his hands.

"Christian," Olivier cried. "It's twelve in the afternoon! How could I let you drink now?"

"I-I..." he struggled for the words. 

Olivier grabbed Rebecca by the hand and led her out of the house. They walked, hand in hand, until the house was out of sight. It was still raining but the birds had stopped their song. Olivier suddenly let go of Rebecca and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" she asked.

"For what happed at home."

"Olivier," Rebecca linked her arm in his. "Everything's perfectly alright. You had no possible way of knowing your father was going to walk in then."

"I suppose," Olivier shrugged. "I still feel like I ruined your day."

"No!" Rebecca cried. "No, it's not that at all!"

Olivier smiled. "Really?"

She patted his arm. "Really. Now let's go eat something. You barely had two bites of your soup."

"I don't have any money –" 

"My treat!"

"Oh, I don't know..." he said, uncomfortably. 

"Olivier," Rebecca said in a low voice. "Do you think you really have a choice either way?"

He grinned sheepishly. "No..."

"And you're absolutely correct!"

~

Two weeks later, on a Monday, Olivier was walking on the familiar path to Myers Books. It had been awhile since he saw Rebecca – everything between school and his father has been expecting the impossible from him.

It was the start of a new week and Olivier was trying to look at it in a different light. Today was Rebecca's birthday – he couldn't _begin _to explain how excited he was!

He opened the door to the shop and quietly walked behind the counter as Rebecca dealt with an extremely difficult customer.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said patiently. "We don't carry that book any longer."

"But you had it two weeks ago!" The customer was a large man, with a bright purple face and he kept hitting his large fist on the counter. "I came in here two weeks ago – and there it was in the corner of the store! How could it have been bought by then?" He hit his fist on the counter again.

Rebecca sighed. "A lot of things can happen in two weeks. It is very possible that someone purchased it during then. If you had reserved it, I would have been able to assure you –"

The man waved his hands in her face and before stomping out the door, cried, "Enough! Enough! I don't need to hear from you anymore!"

Rebecca rested her elbows on the counter once he was gone and massaged her temples. 

Olivier wrapped his arms around her waist and she jumped around, letting out a screech. "Oh, Olivier, you scared me!" she gasped.

"You know, it's not very fair that you have to deal with that on your birthday," Olivier said. He leaned in to kiss Rebecca and she turned her cheek.

'Thank you for remembering," she said quietly, giving him a hug. 

"I brought you something," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Rebecca.

Her fingers fumbled as she opened the slip of paper inside. It read:

_I, Olivier James, hereby give Rebecca Stewart permission to enter Alfred J. Winchester Library._

Olivier had signed it at the bottom of the paper. 

There was no reaction from Rebecca – only a blank look. 

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"It's... lovely," Rebecca tried to smile but her eyes filled up with tears.

"Oh, Rebecca, what did I do wrong?" He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Please tell me."

She hesitated but Olivier insisted. "Rebecca, you know I'm not used to the whole gift-giving thing. Please tell me what I did wrong!"

She took a deep breath. "Don't you understand, Olivier? Don't you understand what I've been fighting for all these years? I've been fighting for our right – the women's right – to walk into that damn library without an escort, without anyone's permission!" Tears began to trickle down her red cheeks. She collapsed into Olivier's arms. "I'm so sorry, Olivier. I – I can't except this."

"No, I'm sorry," he replied. "I wasn't thinking at all – this is all my fault."

Rebecca sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. He took her chin in his hands and lifted it up towards him. "Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?"

There was a pause. "No."

"You are, though."

"I am what?" she asked quietly.

Olivier didn't answer; he cupped her chin in his hands and, ever so gently, pressed his lips against hers. 

He felt her jump slightly but cautiously Rebecca moved her hands from her side and wrapped them around his neck. It was as if they had been life-long friends but were only discovering each other now, at this very moment. Fireworks exploded between them and bond that would never be broken was created. 


	11. A Little Girl

Chapter 10

A/N – Once again, sorry for the delay. I will definitely be writing more once school gets out. Yay! 

Disclaimer – Everything from Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrmann and everything else belongs to me. 

A little girl sat in the corner of a room, trembling uncontrollably. Her tear stained face was full of terror and she had covered her ears with her small hands. The girl's dirty blonde hair had been mussed up from the two braids that fell down her back.

It was dark outside and the only light was from the small sliver of a room. All city life had subsided – everyone had gone inside.

Could no one hear the screams?

No one had heard the screams before, no matter how hard the little girl cried. She prayed for an angel once, this little girl; maybe it would stop the screams.

No angel came – Oh, how the little girl prayed! The screams continued and the little girl never prayed again.

Then, suddenly, the screams disappeared. The little girl raised her head and cocked her ear. She had heard silence before but this time- this time was different. There was silence for a moment before a shot sounded through her ears. The world stood still as the sound traveled through every inch of her body and she shivered. 

The little girl slowly stood up, noticing everything was quiet again. She crept across the room and faced the door of her parent's room. Her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob. The door creaked loudly, echoing through the silence as she opened it.

She screamed silently as the sight of her mother on the blood stained bed. The woman's naked body was glowing in the moonlight and blood poured from between her legs, staining the white sheets. The blood on her legs and chest had turned black against her sickly white skin.

The little girl cried, although she had no tears left.

She slowly turned her head to face her father's body on the floor beside the bed. She knew what had happened even without seeing the rest of his body. There was a gun beside him and a pool of blood was collecting from behind his head. 

She quickly looked back to her mother. The blood was still there. Dark, red blood. It was everywhere.

Rebecca never had liked the color red. 

~

Rebecca woke up with a start, a cold sweat pouring down her forehead. She gasped, trying to catch her breath and clutched her sheets in a tight fist. Armand lifted his head lazily, and looked at Rebecca questioningly with his large, yellow orbs.

Her eyes had already adjusted to the meek light pouring in through the curtained window before she realized what time of day it must be. She stood up and walked sleepily over to the basin of water in the corner of the room. She washed her face but her skin was still cold and clammy.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs behind her door, causing Armand to jump up and hide under the bed. Rebecca reached for her robe hanging on a chair and wrapped it around her; her hands were still shaking.

There was a knock on the door and she opened it. There was Olivier, standing there as if he'd run the whole way. He was breathing hard and his eyes were wide with excitement. "Hello!"

"Good morning, Olivier!" Rebecca stepped to the side and he walked in.

"I was hoping you'd be awake." He leaned in shyly and kissed her. "What's wrong?" He clutched her cold, white hands and studied her face. "You're trembling and your hands are like ice!"

"Oh, it's nothing," Rebecca shrugged her shoulders as she turned around to shut the door. "I'm just fine."

Olivier took a bag of books off his shoulder and set it on the floor. "I was on my way to school and thought I'd come by and see you."

Rebecca grinned. "I'm not exactly on the way to school..."

Olivier shrugged helplessly and grinned. He then looked at her more seriously and put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? You look sick – maybe you should stay in bed today." 

Rebecca shook her head, biting her lip to keep from crying. She remembered her dream and all the blood... Oh God, the blood. She lost so much of her life that night. How has she made it?

Tears finally began to fall down her face and she clutched Olivier. Her legs began to weaken and he brought her over and sat her on the bed. "Olivier," she cried into his shoulder. "I haven't loved anyone the way I love you... I-I'm so afraid I'm going to lose you."

He kissed the top of her head and murmured, "You don't have to worry about that, darling, I'll always be here for you."

"It's not true..." she started to say.

"What's not true?" Olivier asked gently. 

"About my parents," she took a deep shuddering breath and lifted her head to face Olivier. "My father was never in the war and my mother never died in an air raid. I-I don't know how to say –"

"If you can tell me," Olivier said. "I perfectly understand."

She shook her head. "No, I want to tell you... but I can't right now. Will you come this afternoon?

"Of course, darling," Olivier wrapped his arms around her waist and she allowed herself to be held. "I'll be here the moment school is over."

~

Rebecca decided to take Olivier's advice and lounge about all day, doing all the things she wanted to do. Once Olivier had left, she washed herself and put on her nicest dress. It was light blue with a lace collar, reaching just above her knees. Her cream colored jumper completed the outfit. 

After counting up her money, she set out for breakfast. She always enjoyed sitting in an outdoors cafe, sipping tea, eating an expensive pastry and watching all the people live in their hectic lives. 

She could remember doing this on Easter as a child. Her mother would save up all year for that day – just to buy a cup of tear for herself and a pastry for Rebecca. She would sit in the chair at the small table next to her mother, her legs swinging excitedly. She would pretend she was a princess, draped in diamonds and silk, sitting dutifully next to the queen, her mother. Smiling, her mother would play along and sip her tea with her pinky sticking out while wearing a crown of daises made by Princess Rebecca.

Even when the tea and dessert were long gone they would sit there at the table for hours. Neither of them wanted to go home, knowing father would be home later that evening.

Rebecca shook her head, as if to shake the memory out of her head forever. 

~

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably at a bench at Olivier's school. She got odd glances from people entering and leaving the building. Wasn't she supposed to be in school?

She got up and slowly walked over to a clearing in the lawn, beneath a tree. Dandelions littered the area, like stars in the sky.

Suddenly the doors to the school opened and little boys and girls poured out running every which way. Eventually, the sea of children became older. Girls her age were walking together in their skirts and stylish jumpers. 

Rebecca stood up and straightened her jumper. She yearned to be one of them, clutching textbooks to her chest, talking endlessly with best friends. Rebecca watched the girls walk past her as if she were a shadow. She tried to picture herself as one of them. Then suddenly – "Do you go here?"

Rebecca jerked her head to the side and a girl, near her age was standing next to her with a questioning look on her face. Her yellow hair curled limply around her face and her light blue eyes sparkled. 

"Um, no. No, I don't," Rebecca stuttered.

"Really?" the girl said. "You seem familiar. Do you go to one of the other schools then?" 

Rebecca's face flushed crimson and she shook her head. "No, I don't."

The girl looked puzzled.

"My parent's passed away when I was young and I can't afford it..." The words were out of Rebecca's mouth before she could think. But the girls' blue eyes softened and for some reason, she didn't doubt for a second why she trusted her.

"Rebecca!"

She looked up to see Olivier running across the lawn of the school over to where she was standing with the girl. "Hello, Olivier!"

He looked between Rebecca and her new acquaintance with surprise. "Violet?" Olivier looked at the blue-eyes girl then back Rebecca. "Meet Rebecca, my, um, friend. Rebecca, this is Violet."

Violet's eyes twinkled as they shook hands. "Nice to meet you, Rebecca... Olivier's _friend_."

Both Rebecca and Olivier blushed. "And you," she replied. 

"Well, I have to be going now," Violet said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Olivier. Good-bye, Rebecca."

Rebecca and Olivier said good-bye and began to walk down the main road past the school. "So," Rebecca said slyly. "I'm your... friend?"

Olivier blushed. "Well, Violet is a good friend of mine – it was just embarrassing."

"So you're ashamed to have a girlfriend?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "No, not at all!" He stopped walking and turned to Rebecca with a concerned look in his eyes.

"Olivier, don't be so serious!" Rebecca gasped. "I'm perfectly alright!"

He looked quite relieved and kissed her forehead. She rolled her eyes but grinned and kept on walking down the road with Olivier's arm linked in hers. 

"I'm glad to see you're feeling well," Olivier commented.

"Yes," she said. "I am, thank you." She took a deep breath. "And I'm going to tell you about my parents right now before I get too emotional. My father had a drinking problem. He would force my mother to have sex with him at least twice a week but for some reason, she never left. It was an arranged marriage, so I suppose she was afraid of his family. All this would go on and I would be in the room next to theirs. One night, my father came home, drunk as usual, and told my mother to meet him in the room. She kissed me before going to him. The screams went on for longer this time and then there was a moment of complete silence. I went into their room... My mother was dead and so was my father. He was lying on the floor with a gunshot wound to his head."

Neither of them said anything for a long time. Olivier clutched her hand as they kept walking. He thought it was just best not to say anything right now. They began to make their way to the wealthier side of town. Rows and rows of houses lined the streets and there were benches that were placed before every other house. Rebecca and Olivier sat down at one of the benches. They watched as an old, withering away husband and wife walk out of their house and into a carriage. Through the window they could see the couple kiss each other before the horse took them away down the street.

Olivier put his arm around Rebecca's shoulder, leaned in closer to her and whispered, "That's going to be us someday, darling. Two hundred years old and still madly in love."


	12. The Promise

Chapter 11 – 

Disclaimer – Anything _Moulin Rouge! _related belongs to Baz Luhrmann.

It had been a good day for Olivier. Although, Fridays usually were pretty good days. His graduation was coming up in a few months so the teachers were pressing harder than usual and the amount of work increased. But Olivier was a good student, end of the year exams were never that difficult for him. Somehow, despite all the mess at home, he was able to get things done. He got that from his mother. 

Christian never came home the night before and Olivier hoped that he would find him after school. But there was a light shining from the window of their home, so there was no doubt Christian had come home.

Olivier opened the door and saw Rebecca and Christian sitting at the table, drinking tea. "Rebecca!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" 

"Hello, Olivier," she said, smiling. "I've just been talking with your father over a cup of tea."

Olivier raised his eyebrow. "Christian's been drinking tea?"

Rebecca stood up from her chair and said to Christian, "Excuse me for a moment." She motioned for Olivier to follow her outside.

"Rebecca," Olivier looked at her questioningly. "What are you doing?"

"Olivier," she said patiently. "My father had a drinking problem, because of that, I've lost my parents. I want to be able to help your father because I don't want you to lose him."

"How are you going to do that?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," she said. "If I can get a few hours off of work everyday, I could come over and just spend some time with him.

Olivier winced. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Rebecca said firmly. "I do."

Olivier shuffled his feet and frowned, thinking hard.

"Olivier," she said. "I love you and care about you. I care about what happens to you. And your father has a lot to do with that. If you're afraid that he might do something... I can take care of myself, you know –"

"Oh," he exclaimed. "I'm not worried about that at all. Christian would never touch another women. He loves my mother too much."

She smiled. "I know. Christian has talked about her. She sounds like a wonderful woman."

Olivier nodded solemnly. "She was."

"Do you know much about her past?" Rebecca asked.

Olivier shook his head. "No, just that she was French and met my father in Paris."

"Really? She was French?" she asked. "Do you know any of the language.?"

"Well," Olivier grinned sheepishly. "Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, nuit, neuf, dix... And that's about it."

Rebecca smirked. "Very impressive."

Olivier looked in the window of his house, watching Christian slowly drink his tea. He was savoring every drop as if he were trying to remember something in its taste.

"I'd really like to do this," Rebecca said softly. "I think it will be good for both you and Christian." He nodded, understanding. "This is going to be hard for him... Christian will need your help."

"I know," Olivier said. He turned to Rebecca and grinned. "I'm ready if you're ready." Rebecca wrapped him up in a hug and smiled into his shoulder.

Christian watched them through the window as he drank his tea. It was an unfamiliar taste but little by little, he began to remember. It was the taste of long nights at his typewriter. The taste of lazy evenings in the studio. The taste of Satine's kisses. The taste of her love.

Olivier and Rebecca's love radiated through the room and Christian smiled.

~

Olivier hid his face in his hands, trying to block his father's crying in the next room. Rebecca was in the room with Christian, trying to comfort him, but it did no good. Olivier was used to his father's crying, but it still sent chills down his spine. The door to Christian's room opened and Rebecca walked out, surprisingly calm. She walked over to where Olivier sat on the floor. She sat in the chair next to him and clutched his shoulder reassuringly. "Two days without alcohol in his body is very rough for him, Olivier. His immune system has built up a dependence on the alcohol."

"It seems as if he's been drunk for twelve years straight," Olivier said softly. "I don't blame him for screaming." He rested his head against Rebecca's legs and began to cry. Twelve years worth of tears, Olivier cried. Whenever Christian would go off to Satine's grave for days, or when he would sing endlessly to his fairy in the corner of their room, Olivier always stayed strong. Now that Rebecca was here to be strong for him, he just seemed to fall apart.

Olivier and Rebecca sat there for hours as Christian's screams began to lessen in the next room. Olivier continued to cry and Rebecca let him, stroking his tousled hair in a very motherly fashion.

She's a natural mother, Olivier though, with everyone's needs and problems before her own and the need to take care of everyone at heart. Rebecca had so much love to give, Olivier felt so fortunate to have it. He also felt so foolish that it took so long to discover that such a wonderful person lived only four blocks away from him. 

When it was around ten o'clock, Rebecca stood up from her chair and asked Olivier, "Will you be alright if I go home now?"

Olivier stood up to see her out the door. "Yes, I'll be fine. Do you want me to walk you home?" 

"No, thank you," Rebecca smiled. "I think you might want to stay with your father. "

Olivier kissed her good-bye and handed over her jumper. "Thank you, darling," he said before she left. When the door closed, Olivier realized how quiet it was. He walked over and stepped into his father's room.

Christian didn't look asleep, but he had turned on his side and his eyes were closed. His forehead was furrowed in pain and his mouth frowned. His frail body lay limply on the bed and his breath was tired and broken. Christian had lost so much weight in these hard twelve years, the skin on his face seemed like it was too large for his body.

Olivier had never seen him look so old.

~

It was a slow day at the store, Olivier concluded, as he sat at the front counter, his chin resting on his hand. There was a man standing in the corner of the store, his nose buried in a book. He had been standing there for the last two hours, just reading.

"Excuse me, sir, if you are so interested in that book, why don't you purchase it?" Olivier repeated, sounding extremely impatient.

"Just a moment, old sport, just a moment!" the man cried, not lifting his eyes from the book.

Olivier just sighed and continued on with his own book. Usually, on slow days like these, Jonathan would take over for the rest of the time and Olivier was desperately hoping he did so today. Olivier turned the page of his book and a poem lay across the front of it, catching Olivier's eye.

At Last

At last, when all the summer shine

That warmed life's early hours is past,

Your loving fingers seek for mine

And hold them close – at last – at last!

Its nest upon the leafless bough

By autumn robbed, by winter chilled, -

But you, dear heart, you love me now.

Though there are shadows on my brow

And furrows on my cheek, in truth,-

The marks where Time's remorseless plough

Broke up the blooming sward of Youth,-

Though fled is every girlish grace

Might win or hold a lover's vow,

Despite my sad and faded face,

And darkened heart, you love me now!

I count no more my wasted tears;

They left no echo of their fall;

I mourn no more my lonesome years;

This blessed hour atones for all.

I fear not all that Time or Fate

May bring to burden heart or brow,-

Strong in the love that came so late,

Our souls shall keep it always now!

Quietly, Olivier put a stray piece of ribbon between the pages of the book. His train of thought was broken by a slam of a book. He looked up and the man walked over from his corner of the store to the front desk. Thrusting the book on the counter, he declared, grinning widely, "I'll take it!"

~

Christian took Rebecca's jacket and hung it by the door as they walked inside the house. It was cool in the small house and Christian's headache seemed to lessen slightly after being in the warm air. They had just been on a walk, but as the sun began to set they had decided to shorten it. She fixed tea for Christian, trying to calm her own nerves, as she was to ask a very important question.

"Christian," Rebecca started slowly. "I have a favor to ask of you." He told her to go on. "Olivier knows nothing of his mother's past." There. She had said it. "I think it would be very important for you to tell Olivier.

Christian was deep in thought about this; he bowed his head.

"This isn't any of my business," Rebecca said hastily. "I-I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," Christian said quickly, grabbing her arm so she couldn't leave. "I need to tell Olivier. Yes, it's my job as a single father. But... it's a little more complicated than a quick chat over tea."

Rebecca nodded. "I understand. Is there any other way or form you could tell him?"

Christian's eyes instantly lit up. "I could write. I-I could get out my typewriter and write our story." His eyes filled up with tears as he began to remember. "Satine told me before she died to tell Olivier our story..."

Rebecca took his hands and gave him a squeeze. "Christian, this is a wonderful idea!"

Christian smiled. "I'll cherish these last few weeks I've spent with you, Rebecca. They've really done me some good."

"I'm very glad about that," Rebecca said.

Christian got up from his chair and walked over to the chest of drawers. He opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a dusty, black, Underwood typewriter. There was a piece of paper still in it, but it was blank. Christian set it on the table and examined it, to make sure it was still intact. It was. He began to type, slowly at first, like it was something new to him. He was typing nothing in particular. Stray words here and there that seemed to make sense to Christian, as he continued to type, faster and faster; like remembering how to ride a bicycle. Slow and cautiously at first, but sped up as he got used to the clacking of the keys and the pressure in his fingers as he pressed down each letter.

Rebecca slowly got up from her place at the table and took her jumper from the broken coat rack in the corner of the room. Christian didn't look up from his typewriter as Rebecca walked out the door and made her way down the street.

~

Muttering wildly underneath his breath, Olivier quickly walked down his street work. The sun had gone down and the light from the surrounding homes filtered out into the street. His mind was full of unfinished thoughts that would enter and exit his mind repeatedly just like a sharp ocean breeze; completely taking over his senses one moment and leaving him in a panic the next. 

"Olivier."

He jumped at the voice right next to his ear and realized that Rebecca was standing right next to him. 

"Olivier, I've been walking next to you for half a block."

"Oh, sorry... is everything alright?" Olivier said.

Rebecca threw him a confused look. "Er, no, not at all. In fact, I was just wondering the same thing."

"Oh. All right then..." Olivier trailed off and continued walking towards his house.

"Olivier! Aren't you going to ask about your father?" Rebecca persisted.

Olivier stopped walking again and turned towards Rebecca. "Why should I?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "He's your _father_!"

"He should have acted like one a long time ago... Then maybe I would care about him," Olivier said crossly.

Rebecca looked hurt. "You don't mean that."

"And if I did? What would it matter to you?" 

Rebecca's mouth dropped open. She closed it and opened it again before speaking. "Is that your attitude toward my helping your father? I'm trying to mend a relationship broken twelve bloody years ago! Shouldn't I get a little bit more response from you?"

Olivier didn't reply. He just rubbed his face with his hands, looking down at his shoes.

"Fine!" Rebecca shrieked, throwing her hands up in the air. "Fine! I'm only doing this for the sake of your sanity and your father's. You work it out by yourself! Maybe your father will kill himself too and put him out of his misery." She turned on her heel and stormed off down the street.

Olivier watched her until she disappeared around a corner. He too turned on his heel, cursed under his breath and walked the rest of the way to his house.

When Olivier entered his house, he found Christian's old typewriter on the table, with a piece of paper in it. Words and phrases making no sense at all, but gradually pulling itself together to form paragraphs and sentences. But Olivier paid no attention to the words. He just dropped his school bag and coat on the chair in the corner of the room and sat down at the table. 

He wasn't quite sure what to make of the conversation he just had with Rebecca. Only now were the stinging words starting to make sense in his muddled brain. Slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand, he thought about how special all this was to Rebecca... putting Christian's life back together, repairing a broken relationship and how he had just insulted all her energy and passion for it. He had acted so stupidly, knowing how much of this she took to heart! Olivier wouldn't be surprised if she didn't come to see Christian tomorrow. Oh, but she had done so much good to his father these last few weeks.

Olivier got up from his seat and went to the bedroom door to see if his father was sleeping. Christian lay on the bed with his eyes toward the ceiling. An open book lay unattended near his feet. "You just missed her," Christian said with a raspy voice. "She left half an hour ago."  
"Yes, I saw her on my way home," Olivier said. He turned to close the door, but Christian stood up and walked over to him.

"You're very lucky, you know," he said quietly. Olivier didn't reply. "To have such a person love you in such a way," he continued. "I've seen the way her eyes brighten up when I say your name. And the way she gushes about your work at the store. She can't stop smiling whenever we talk about you. She really loves you, Olivier..." Tears leaked out of Christian's crinkled eyes.

"Christian," Olivier murmured. "You look tired... h-how about you go back to rest."

"Don't lose her, Olivier!" Christian said hoarsely, grabbing Olivier's shoulders with tears streaming down his face. "You just can't let her go!"

Olivier's voice stuck in the back of his throat. "I w-won't," he stammered. "I promise." And Christian collapsed in to Olivier, racking sobs shaking his whole body as Olivier settled him back onto his bed. His father just lay there, sobbing into the worn mattress of the bed. Olivier went back out into the other room and after blowing out the candle on the table, he ran out the door and down the street.

Olivier's feet slapped against the cobbled street in rhythm with his beating heart. He was running as fast as he had ever run that he almost fell into a large crate as he stopped in from of Myers Books. Olivier quickly ran up the stairs to Rebecca's room. "Rebecca! Rebecca!"

He heard a yell from inside the room and the door flung open. Rebecca had hastily wrapped a robe around herself and was carrying a candle. "Olivier! What's the matter!" Olivier stepped inside her room and knelt down to catch his breath. "Oh my God, Olivier, it's not your father, is it?"

"My father – " 

"Oh no!" Rebecca cried. She spun around and set the candle down on her night table. She peeled her robe off and began to search through her chest of drawers for clothing. All she was wearing was a nightgown that was worn and thin and obviously too small for her, as it reached her knees.

Olivier's stomach dropped a foot and he turned around to face the door. He felt all the blood rush to his cheeks. "M-my father's f-fine, Rebecca." 

Rebecca gave a groan of relief. "Oh, thank God. Then what the devil are you so excited about?" She walked around Olivier to face him.

Embarrassed, he turned his head.

Rebecca laughed. "Oh, goodness, what is there to be embarrassed of, Olivier? I've got all the important parts covered!"

Olivier finally found his voice in the pit of his stomach. "I promised my father I would never lose you..." He turned his head and saw that Rebecca looked quite flushed herself. She stepped closer to him and he could smell her usual lavender scent. He boldly wrapped his arms around her thin waist and looked her in the eye. "And I don't to intend to break it, Rebecca."

Rebecca wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer. She lifted her foot and hit the door shut with a soft click. A smile played at her lips. "I don't think that will be a problem."


	13. A Busy Day

Chapter 12 – A Busy Day

A/N – Hello, all! Mucho thanks to those who have keep up with the story, since I have been procrastinating BIG TIME. Well, we are definitely on the last leg of Olivier's Story now _(cue big cheer from the author) _so I hope you will continue to read! Oh, and by the by, two boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans (And throw in a couple Cockroach Clusters) to anyone who can place the origin of the last two sentences in this chapter. Hint: Somewhere in this story.

Disclaimer: Everything but Satine, Christian and Olivier belong to me.

Olivier woke up to a tangle of legs and sheets and the sun was streaming in through the window. He put a protective arm around Rebecca and pulled her closer to him as she slept. She made a little sound and Olivier saw her eyes blink open. There was something so magically perfect about that moment and Olivier knew he would never forget it. Rebecca shifted a little in the sheets and rested her head on Olivier's chest. He felt a little tingle of excitement at her touch and he reached out to stroke her hair.

"Good morning, darling," Rebecca murmured sleepily.

"'Morning," he bent his head and kissed her forehead.

Rebecca stretched her arms and legs and made to get out of bed. "If I don't get up now, I'll never get out of bed."

"Nothing's wrong with that. "Olivier grabbed her by the hand, pulled her towards him and kissed her on the neck. "You don't have to work... I'm free too. We could just stay here all day and –"

"No, Olivier!" Rebecca laughed. "I also have to go to a protest with Susan." She wriggled free from his arms and walked over to her chest of drawers. There was a pile of posters on top of her desk.

"Where?"

"A children's hospital about eight blocks from here," she said, slipping a simple dress over her head.

"Oh. Then I'll make breakfast!" He stepped out of bed and began to pull on his clothes that seemed to have made their way to a pile on the floor sometime during the night. "I'll make eggs, or an omelet. How about –"

"I'm sorry," Rebecca said. "All I have is oatmeal."

"Oatmeal it is, then!" he said energetically. He walked over to the stove and pulled a box off the shelf. "Hmm... I wonder how you make oatmeal."

So, they made oatmeal together, which resulted in her posters lying on the desk once again forgotten, his clothes back in their pile on the floor and both Olivier and Rebecca covered in oatmeal.

"I never knew making oatmeal was that exhausting," Olivier remarked with a smirk on his face.

Rebecca turned on her stomach and rested her arms on his chest. "It _isn't_, dear, you just made it exhausting."

"You're blaming all that on _me_?" Olivier tried to sound indignant. "You were on the one who flicked the oatmeal out of the spoon and –"

Rebecca kissed Olivier. "I love you."

Olivier's eyes softened. "I love you, too." He paused. "I want to stay here all day and all night with you, right here. You're just too beautiful to keep out of my sight."

"Ah, darling, we have to face the world sometime," Rebecca said.

"But why? It would be so easy to get away from it all."

"Olivier, I believe you live in a world of your own. I wish I could go there. Everything seems so simple there." Rebecca smiled.

"That place is with you," Olivier said. "You're what makes my life so worth living." He kissed her own the nose very lightly and Rebecca brushed a piece of oatmeal off his forehead. How it got there, Rebecca didn't want to imagine.

Suddenly, Rebecca jumped out of bed and began running around the room, crying, "I'm late! I'm late!" 

They both left ten minutes later; Rebecca to the children's hospital, Olivier to his house.

~

Rebecca rushed to the front of S. J. Whittaker's Children's Hospital, with her arms full of posters.

"There you are, Rebecca!" her best friend, Susan Child, called. She rushed over to Rebecca and relieved her of her load. "My, you look awfully happy about something. What's going on?"

Rebecca flushed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Oh, it's nothing, Susan."

Susan raised one dark eyebrow. "I don't believe you. Is it _him_?"

Rebecca didn't reply. She just gave Susan a small smile.

"Aha!" Susan cried. "I knew it! Goodness, took you two long enough!"

"Susan!" Rebecca flushed crimson and swatted at her arm. "Come on, we just set up our booth." She walked over to the entrance of the door to the hospital and set some of her things on the table that was waiting there.

"So..." Susan said with a smile. "When do I meet him?"

Rebecca laughed and began rearranging things on the table. "You sound like a mother!"

"You're my best friend!" Susan said. "I need to keep up with your life! Obviously, Olivier James is a big attraction to yours."

"Hmm, I believe we were going to go out for lunch today..." Rebecca considered. "After this, we could meet up with him then."

"Ooh, that's a great idea," Susan said. She waved a poster in the air as someone walked past. "Save the children! Don't close S.J. Whittaker's Children's Hospital!" She turned back to Rebecca. "I'm very excited to meet him. What does he look like?"

"Well, he has short brown hair, and soft brown eyes. A smile that makes you turn to goo..."

"Ah, I like him already," Susan said with a grin.

~

"Olivier, this is my best friend, Susan Child," Rebecca said, holding his arm. "Susan, this is Olivier James."

"How do you do?" Susan said. A wicked smile was on her face as she studied Olivier. She kept stealing glances with Rebecca. "I've heard quite a lot of good things about you, Olivier."

Olivier turned a little pink. "Why, thank you. How did the protest go?"

"Oh, it was amazing!" Rebecca replied. "I really think we go to some people! And then –" Rebecca shivered with excitement. "-S.J. Whittaker's widow came by and took a whole stack of fliers to hand out around the area!"

Olivier grinned. "That's great, darling." He kissed Rebecca on the side of her head.

"Well," Susan said. "I think I better be going... You two have fun."

Rebecca laughed. "Good-bye, Susan."

Susan gave her a wink and turned to leave. Rebecca and Olivier started down the other end of the road.

"Look, Rebecca," Olivier pointed at the menu of the little restaurant at which they were dining. "You can order haggis here. Your favorite!"

"Mmm," Rebecca said. "I sure feel like some animal entrails this lovely afternoon!"

"I knew you would be," Olivier said as the waitress came to get their order.

"How is your father?" Rebecca asked a few moments later.

"Very well," Olivier said. "He's been on his typewriter the whole time. Don't know what the devil he's writing about. He won't tell me a thing..." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't suppose _you _have anything to do with this, Rebecca, my sweet?"

Rebecca gave a small smile. "Don't suppose I do..."

Olivier took Rebecca's hand and kissed her palm, sending a shiver of excitement through her. "Rebecca you have done him a world of good. I don't think I can ever thank you enough."

"You don't need to, darling," Rebecca said. "Not one bit."

Their food came and they quietly began to eat. People bustled by as they finished their food, talking loudly and obnoxiously to each other. Olivier and Rebecca enjoyed listening to the chaotic nature of the world. They felt fortunate that their lives did not consist of cruel gossip about the baker's mistress or the horrid history of Flora from Flora's Antique Shop.

"Here," Rebecca said, holding up a spoonful of her lunch. "Taste this custard; it's very good."

He took a bite and was about the swallow when – "Oh, look, Mr. Greene! That young couple is feeding each other! How dear..."

"Yes, Mrs. Greene," her husband said dully.

"Oh, but Mr. Greene!" Mrs. Greene said in a stage whisper. "'Tis a shame really... you know, and I'm sure you do as you are quite sharp with such things, that this little fling of theirs will never last."

Rebecca's jaw dropped open. She clamped her hand over her mouth and giggled.

"That's nice, Mrs. Greene," Mr. Greene said into his soup.

"Ah, but they look so dear."

Rebecca grinned wickedly and leaned across the table. She pulled Olivier by the collar and kissed him passionately and fiercely. Olivier made a small noise of surprise at the back of his throat, but quickly caught on. He held Rebecca's face in his hands and his glass of milk fell into her custard. He caught a glimpse of Mrs. Greene out of the corner of his eye. She held her hand to her heart and her mouth hung wide open. "Oh, my," she gasped.

Mr. Greene could be heard snickering into his soup.

~

"Oh, I've had a lovely day today, Olivier," Rebecca exclaimed as they walked down the street after eating. "I need to something for you now."

"Well," Olivier said with a low voice in her ear. "I could propose we go back to your room and –"

"Olivier!" Rebecca gasped. "Goodness, is that all what men think of? Besides, I'm already exhausted from our ... oatmeal making."

Olivier snickered and put his arm around her waist. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to meet my father's family."

Rebecca faltered in her walking but continued. "Meet your family?"

"Yes," he said. There's Aunt Sam; she's very athletic and has too much energy for her own good. And Aunt Victoria, she's a nurse, who has come to visit for a few months and then Grandmama who is a very pleasant old lady who complains about how old she is constantly. I don't know what Christian has told you about Grandfather, but he died ten years ago. He... wasn't pleasant."

"Yes," Rebecca said thoughtfully. "I remember him mentioning that. I'm just worried that..."

"What is it?" Olivier asked.

"What if they don't like me?!" Rebecca exclaimed, almost sounding panicked.

"Darling, don't worry about that!" Olivier laughed. "They'll love you. I do and that's all they need to know." He felt the muscles in Rebecca's back relax a little.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Olivier reassured her. Olivier pointed up the street. "They live two blocks up that street. On Snob Hill."

Rebecca gasped as they walked past the tall bushes at the corner and saw the house up on the hill. The acres of rolling lawn reminded him of coming here for the first time, sitting on his father's shoulders and his mother walking next to them, shaking like a leaf from nerves. He noticed Rebecca doing the same. He took her hand and led her to the front door

Olivier knocked loudly on the door. One more reassuring squeeze of the hand and then the door opened.

"Hello, Mr. James!" The housekeeper said pleasantly.

"Hello, Mrs. Willows," Olivier greeted her. "And it's Olivier." He linked his arm with Rebecca's. "Mrs. Willows, this is Rebecca Steward. Rebecca, Mrs. Willows, my grandmother's housekeeper."

"How do you do?" Rebecca said nervously.

"How do you do, Miss Stewart," Mrs. Willows smiled warmly. "Please come in."

They walked in and Mrs. Willows led them into a hallway with a long flight of stairs. "Your grandmother, Mr. James, is upstairs in the drawing room."

When they entered the drawing room, Rebecca, at first glance, did not see Mrs. James. The luxurious furniture and tapestries and portraits filling the room overwhelmed her. Mrs. James was in a large chair by the window, folded in a thick blanket. She look as if the slight breeze through the open window would blow her away, if not for the thick blanket holding her down. Her old, wrinkled face lit up with the sight of her grandson entering the room.

"Ah, it's Olivier!" she said, holding out her hand. "How nice of you to come visit your old, old, grandmother."

Olivier kissed her cheek and softly grasped her frail hand. "You look absolutely wonderful, Grandmama. How are you feeling?"

"Ah, stiff as usual." She gave a quick glance at Rebecca and back to Olivier.

"Grandmama," Olivier said, taking Rebecca by the hand. "I'd like you to meet Rebecca Stewart."

"How do you do, Mrs. James," Rebecca said politely. "You have a very lovely home."

"Thank you, Miss Stewart," Mrs. James replied. "But I'm afraid it has not had the attention it deserves since Mr. James died. My old bones just can't keep up with everything."

"Beautiful, nonetheless," Rebecca smiled.

The door to the drawing room burst open and a young woman (she looked around the age of twenty) with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes hurried in. "Olivier! It has been ages!"

Another woman followed her in; she looked to be in her thirties and had long, brown hair that was piled on the top of her head. Eyes, shockingly similar to Christian's, hid behind glasses. The necessary introductions were made and Rebecca learned that the younger woman was Samantha James and the older, Victoria Bates (married to Dr. Bates of Glasgow). Samantha had Christian's smile and Victoria had his eyes, but it was still hard to comprehend the concept that they are siblings. She thought she remembered Christian mentioning an older brother, but he said he was similar to his father. He lives in India, working in trade.

After a few moments of conversation, Victoria offered to go fetch tea. "Olivier, I think I'll need help. Will you come?" He agreed and gave Rebecca a warm smile before leaving.

Victoria was silent as they waited in the kitchen for the maid to get the tea. "I believe you have something to tell me, Aunt Victoria," Olivier remarked.

"Now, why would you think that?" Victoria inquired.

"You would have sent for the maid with the tea any other day."

Victoria smiled and was silent for a few more moments later, before, "You love her very much, don't you?"

Olivier nodded. "Yes, I do."

"She's a very pleasant girl. A little quiet, but I suspect that's nerves."

Olivier smiled. "She organizes and attends several protests. Rebecca is not normally quiet at all."

"Do you plan to marry her?" Victoria asked him.

Olivier blinked, a little stumped by the question. He had not expected to hear that from Aunt Victoria, although, he couldn't deny that the thought ever crossed his mind. "Yes, I suppose so... Yes. Yes, of course.

"You are a good person, Olivier," Victoria smiled. "I think she will have you."

"I hope so."

Victoria paused, then frowned.

"What is it?" Olivier asked.

"How is Christian?"

"Very well, actually," Olivier said. "Rebecca has become friends with him and he's started writing again. He has been sober for a good while now."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear it!" Victoria exclaimed. Right then, the maid came over and said the tea was ready.

Meanwhile, upstairs in the drawing room, Rebecca had taken a seat next to Mrs. James at the window and Sam sat at a loveseat reading.

"Where did you first meet Olivier, Miss Stewart?" Mrs. James asked. "Was it at school?"

"Actually, Mrs. James," Rebecca started. "And I'm a little ashamed to say so, but I am unable to afford tuition to school. I left school one year ago. I work at my guardian, Jonathan Myers', book store."

"You said, your guardian?"

"Yes, ma'am," Rebecca replied. "My parents died when I was younger."

"I'm sorry to hear that, my child." She then inquired about Christian and his health so Rebecca explained how he has been doing very well. She also explained the time she spent with Christian and how she felt it had made an impact on his health.

"I couldn't be more pleased, my dear," Mrs. James said. "That's a wonderful accomplishment."

At that moment, Olivier and Victoria entered with the tea. Rebecca silently began to sip her tea and she could finally fell her nerves settle. She thought Mrs. James was a lovely, pleasant old woman and she felt at home here with Olivier's family.

"Rebecca, would you like to look around the house?" Olivier proposed.

Rebecca said yes, and they left the drawing room and went down the hallway.

"What do you think?" he asked softly.

"I think your family is very lovely," Rebecca answered.

"I'm glad," Olivier held her arm. "I'm very glad."

He then went on to show her the many rooms of the house. Rebecca couldn't think of a time where she had been in a house of this size. Olivier looked so at home here in this large house, it was s shame to think he had to share a room with his father. 

"Here was Christian's roo,." Olivier said, opening the door to a room at the end of the hall. "This is where I slept when we visited here with Mother. Mother fell ill and Christian spent most of his time with her. That was only the second day I knew Christian..."

Rebecca looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Olivier bit his lip. "Christian never told you?"

She frowned and shook her head.

"Oh dear..." Olivier wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. "Well, to begin, my mother and father met in Paris. I don't know why or any of the details, but he left Paris, not knowing Mother was pregnant with me. Mother left for London to raise me, not knowing _Christian_ is living there as well.

"Then, six years later, Christian appears at our door. On my sixth birthday, actually. The next day, we visit his family here. Mother falls ill and we eventually go to Bournemoth while she recuperates. I got closer to Christian those few weeks there than I ever have and ever will." He paused.

Rebecca rested her head on his shoulder. "Is that where your mother died?"

Olivier nodded. "We moved back to London... and well, you can imagine Christian fell apart."

"Olivier," Rebecca said tearfully. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Olivier lifted Rebecca's head off his shoulder and kissed her. "I apologize for never telling you. I guess I just assumed Christian told you."

Rebecca wrapped her arms tighter around Olivier and began to cry softly into his shoulder. He rocked her gently, from side to side, in a way he could remember from his mother.

Moments passed and Olivier asked, "Are you read to go back?"

Rebecca quickly wiped her eyes and nodded. "Yes, let's go."

~

Rebecca and Olivier walked into his house later that evening to check on Christian. A candle lay barely alive on the table. The typewriter still had paper in it and a large stack of paper with the ink still shining on the top was on the chest of drawers. The bedroom door stood open and Olivier saw Christian fast asleep in bed. There were no bottles on the floor near the bed and when Rebecca looked through the cupboards, they were void of bottles as well.

Olivier grabbed a bag and threw a change of clothes into it. He left with Rebecca and locked the door behind him.

The minute they entered Rebecca's room, she collapsed onto the bed and groaned, "Today has been exhausting!"

Olivier threw his bag onto a chair. Armand meowed loudly from his spot in the corner of the room and Olivier leaned down to scratch him on the head. He yawned and took his jacket off.

"Come sleep, darling," Rebecca said sleepily. She pulled the blanket back and rolled over to face Olivier. "This bed is cold."

Olivier pulled off his shoes and crawled into bed with Rebecca. She wrapped the thick blankets around them and kissed Olivier deeply. And as they lay there, their hearts beating as one, they fell into a long awaited, deep sleep.


End file.
